


Serendipity

by elderflower_macarons



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, and i absolutely mean a slow burn, dont worry it hurt me too writing this, squint and you can see that roxas/reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-28 23:48:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 49,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15060455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elderflower_macarons/pseuds/elderflower_macarons
Summary: ser·en·dip·i·ty/serənˈdipədē/nounthe occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.As the daughter of the couple who runs the local clinic in Twilight Town, you'd learned to temporarily accept your fate. And then everything changed, all because of a single boy who stumbled into your life and set off a spark in his wake without the intention of doing so. But all fires need a spark to burn. This is your story. This is how you learn to burn bright and bold all while being warm. All because of a single spark.Perhaps destiny doesn't have to be so concrete.





	1. prologue

Twilight Town had been your home for years. You knew the entire town like the back of your hand, since the day you could _toddle_ you were exploring. Nestled into a corner of the tram common was the Twilight Town Clinic, owned and operated by your parents since before you were born. The day you turned thirteen, you were deemed old enough to help out around the front desk - which wasn’t much, since there was your older brother who _actually_ did all the work then.

But that was before your brother moved out, going off to adventure elsewhere, and then it all fell onto you. Now you were fifteen, almost sixteen, and you sat at the front desk of your family’s clinic to help anyone get checked in and work with their paperwork and do anything and everything your parents wanted you to do.

That’s when you realized how _lucky_ your brother was for getting out to do _whatever_ . This was _boring_ .

Life in Twilight Town was often quiet most of the time, and you were often holed up in the clinic during summers - summers where you could be out making friends and having everyday adventures with them. Your back would always end up aching from the uncomfortable office chair, and then by the time the clinic closed - there wasn’t much to do in terms of travel.

There was the Sandlot, where you could always Seifer and his little gang; there was Market Street, which - if you knew how to skateboard or how to ride a scooter or something - could be ridden down; there was the Tram Common, where the clinic was nestled in a safe corner and you honestly didn’t care to stay there for too long; and then there was Sunset Terrace, where you could sit on Sunset Hill and watch the trains go to and fro, or if the day was nice enough, you could read.

And that was everything you could really do for free, because as a fifteen year old kid, you didn’t get _that_ much munny for your allowance; and as a kid who worked in a clinic all summer, you didn’t get _that_ much time to go out and enjoy things. The trains for the beach had tickets that cost eight hundred munny a person, and snacks when you got there were _more_ munny. Sure, you could save up - but then there was the problem of the fact that the last train to the beach often left right as the clinic closed.

So you resigned yourself to your work. You would spend your days filing papers and notifying your parents of patients and sometimes reading in between all of it. On sundays, you would wander the town and maybe bump into Hayner (who, you noticed one day, you tend to bump into a lot, as if destiny decided to put align your paths over and over), or you’d take the town line and go watch the trains come and go when you weren’t reading. This was your life. You didn’t have the power to change it - not at fifteen, not when you were dependent on your parents. When your brother had left, he’d been old enough to go out and do whatever he wanted.

So it appeared that you, in every form that _you_ were, had resigned to this fate. Work, eat, sleep became your daily mantra, and sometimes ‘read’ or ‘paint’ or even the simple command of ‘breathe’ would slip in between and break up the schedule a little.

And then, as they always do in life, things changed. And oh, _how they changed_. For better or for worse… you could never be sure. But there was a single thing you were sure of:

_Destiny had other plans for you._


	2. one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you patch someone up after a nasty scrape. and then roxas starts to realize something.

The Twilight Town Clinic was like a second home to you. The familiar smell of disinfectant on instruments, the soft orange hue of the sky that stretched through the front windows, the often quiet and calm atmosphere - you’d grown used to it after spending the past two-almost-three summers manning the front desk. It wasn’t any major work - filing away paperwork in the designated areas, scheduling appointments in open slots of preset schedules, informing your parents of a patient - but it was dreary and boring no matter how you tried to frame it. While other kids your age spent their summer vacations working more exciting jobs or going to the beach or lazing about, you spent yours working with little pay (in other words, this was your way of earning your allowance) and doing busy work most of the time, and sometimes hiding a book in your lap whenever time permits.

In your little area of the office there was a single computer that had barely any processing skills (which, actually, is why your parents often had you do almost everything by hand as the poor thing had gotten rather spotty and troublesome, losing important information from time to time) but was capable of playing a card game or two before it started to lag. The rest was boring, with filing cabinets or actual cabinets build into the wall that sometimes held ink and stamps and pens. For the most part, it was rather bare aside from all the essential papers.

You enjoyed a quick lunch out before returning to the clinic earlier than your parents had, letting yourself back in and making your way to your desk, finding the hardback book of the history of magic with the cover of one or your favorite novels hiding its face and opening it to the place you’d last left off. And then a stack of papers lying on an alternate table caught your eye, a bright pink sticky with your father’s handwriting on it (or rather, his _scribbles_ , as the ‘all doctors have awful handwriting’ rung true for your parents as well) to file these away when you got back. So after a huffy sigh at having to dislodge yourself from the comfortable position you’d almost completely settled into, you got to work, the filing cabinet screeching open and making you wince.

Halfway through your work was when the front bell chimed. At first, you didn’t move to see who entered, as you only expected that it was one or both of your parents finally returning at last. When neither greeted you, you shoved the drawer closed right as two certain blonds came into view, both scratched up - one worse than the other, but nothing too much to worry about. You pressed your lips together, looking over the boys once more.

“So… what happened to you two?” You asked, pushing an extra time to jiggle the drawer shut. Hayner only shot you a cheeky grin.

“Tried to climb a wall,” he started, “and then we fell into some rose bushes or something.”

You rolled your eyes, walking back over to the desk. “Really? What were you doing, trying to break in somewhere?”

“Maybe,” he said with a small smirk, “where’s your mom? She’s gentler than your dad is.”

“That’s because my dad knows you, Hayner, and he knows you do stupid things on purpose,” you leaned against the back of your chair, “besides - they’re out. Did you not see the sign?”

“Did you not lock the door?” Hayner frowned, “c’mon - when are they getting back?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged. “They didn’t say.”

“Then can you help them?” Pence asked from across the room, flipping through one of the books out in the little waiting area, “or Hayner’s not gonna shut up about the scratches.”

You only rolled your eyes again and went to find the first aid kit underneath one of the counters in your little area, brushing off dust as it went unused. “Yeah, I can.” You made your way around the corner, opening the door to the little hallway of examination rooms and the little office area your parents often worked in, “you okay, Roxas? You seem quiet.”

He seemed startled to hear his name, finally looking up from a particularly nasty scratch on his forearm. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

You didn’t entirely believe him. You dragged Hayner over to the little office area, not wanting to risk contaminating the examination rooms (you didn’t need to hear _that_ from your parents) and rolled a chair over to another, popping open the kit. Roxas stood idly by, watching you clean the scrapes along his arm and bandage them.

“Want a lollipop, Hayner?” You asked, a smile playing at your lips. He only scoffed before shooting you a quick smile, hopping up out of the chair. Giving a quick thanks, he stepped away and made some comment about going to see Pence and Olette and go ahead and get whatever scolding Olette’s got planned. You only looked up to Roxas, who stood there idly, watching his friend leave the two of you alone.

After a moment of hesitation, Roxas sank into the chair opposite you, dumbly staring at you for a moment. You were gentler with him, taking him by the arm and gently wiping at the dried blood to rid the worst gashes of it. As you prepared to disinfect the scratches, you looked up to Roxas. He’d been intently watching everything you did, just taking in every little movement and action you took.

“So,” you began, “where were you guys anyway? I can’t think of anywhere that’d just have roses bushes that weren’t somewhat trimmed back.” You had to wonder how Roxas ended up with the worst of it, and stopped as he took a breath.

“... The old manor,” he finally said.

Ah. _That_ made sense. “Why are you trying to get in there, Roxas? It’s just some abandoned manor.”

When you finally looked back up to him, he answered. “Hayner wanted to,” he sort of half-shrugged, one arm trapped by your grasp, “so I thought I’d help him.”

“And you get the worst of it,” you began to wipe at his arm with the disinfectant, _just in case_. Roxas winced, letting out a soft hiss of pain. “Shush. You’ve dealt with this before, Roxas.”

He frowned, staring at you. “It still stings,” he said, frowning as he winced at another particularly bad spot.

You sort of chuckled after straightening your spine for a moment, the soft pops catching your attention. “How many more times am I going to have to patch you up, Roxas?” You smiled. He weakly returned a smile.

“Who knows,” he said, “we’ve only got another week or so of summer vacation.”

“Doesn’t mean I won’t be taking care of you at _school_ . You’ll find a way.” You rolled slightly closer, fingers tight around his wrist as you apply a small amount of antibiotic ointment to a gash. “Not that I mind.” And then you paused for a moment, trying to bring the old manor to mind. Did it have rose bushes around the front? You could have sworn it was just ivy. So you decided to ask, glancing back up to Roxas’s face, “I thought the front gate didn’t _have_ rose bushes.”

“We… weren’t at the gate.”

“... Roxas, why are you all wandering around in the woods?” You ending up withdrawing your attention from his arm for a moment, “actually - better question. _Why_ were you climbing right above where rose bushes were?”

“Hayner and I tested the ivy there and it was able to hold us,” he retorted quickly, trying to keep still as you smoothed a bandage out, “and then it just… _snapped_.”

You snorted as you looked up to him, and he frowned, defensiveness creeping into his expression. “You’re adorable sometimes, Roxas. All of you are.”

“You act like you aren’t our age,” he said. You peeled another bandage, smoothly placing it over another scratch.

“So? I like seeing all of you. You guys are all so sweet and… you’re all really close.” You paused, fumbling with another bandage, “it’s really nice to see.”

He didn’t respond. You noticed that Roxas had pretty eyes - bright and blue and brilliant, like the ocean or what you’d heard the sky looked like on clear, bright sunny days. That was something you didn’t like about Twilight Town - it was always cloaked in a orange light, bathed with sunset with no movement to be expected to the sun. Everyone had simply gotten used to it in the end, often using thick curtains to shut out the light so that they can finally sleep, and keeping a clock or a watch in sight at all times to keep a definite perception on the time. Even _you_ wore a watch almost twenty-four-seven, your attention flying back to the time when the day begins to drag. You turned your attention back to your work, making quick work of his other arm before leaning back in the chair, rolling back slightly in the process.

“And you’re done. Try to be careful, Roxas. As much as I like patching you up, it kinda sucks to see you-”

He interrupted you, a small smile playing at his lips because Roxas wasn’t an idiot - he knew that wasn’t all you were about to say. But still, he tried to suppress his smile with a “wow, _thanks_ ,” as he watched you.

“- hurt.” You finished., rolling your eyes. “At least you don’t complain about everything like Hayner does. He got stung by a bee _once_ and you could have sworn that dad was killing him while trying to pull out the stinger.”

“That’s Hayner for you,” Roxas smiled, standing and stretching, “thanks, [y/n]. I’ll see you around?”

“If you’re lucky,” you shot him a quick smile, idly rocking yourself from side to side in the chair, “you and Hayner owe me ice cream for this. I don’t work for free, dude.”

He stood there, processing for a moment before dumbly nodding. And then he was gone, leaving you to clean up the kit. The flutter of cotton and plastic and paper falling into the trash was quiet, leaving you to stew in your thoughts as a strange wave washed over you, sending a chill down your spine.  And for a moment, everything feels _off_. Like… someone was watching you. And then it was gone, just as quickly as it came.

-x-

In the back of his mind, there had been a clawing feeling. It’d been there every day, something screaming out. When he tried to think about it, it was as if something snaked its way into the back of his thoughts and blocked them, refusing to let him push past it.

Still, Roxas felt like… things were _wrong_ . Like he was floating, like everything was just working around him. Like behind every brick there was some sort of secret in place, working against him and against everything. When he tried to think back, everything felt light and distant, like he wasn’t even _there_ \- like… he was a witness to life. Like he was only an observer, unable to control things.

He couldn’t remember actually walking out to the old manor with Hayner, or what they’d been talking about. He couldn’t remember what ivy felt like underneath his fingers, or the sharpness of a thorn scraping and sticking his skin, or the pain he _knew_ would have spiraled through his spine along with hitting the ground. And when he really thought about it, he could barely remember what the sting of disinfectant felt like. He felt like he was in a dream.

But he wasn’t. He’d know if he was dreaming. If he was dreaming, he wouldn’t be able to feel the faint sting in his arms _now_ and the strange clawing in the back of his mind _now._ The feeling of warmth grazing his skin, always following or being chased by coldness, lingered on his arms. The chatter of his friends sounded fuzzy and from anywhere but next to him - and that was _strange_ , because Roxas had bumped shoulders with Hayner once or twice and he knew Pence was on the other side of him and Olette always a step ahead - because in times like these, where he and Hayner did stupid things, she _always_ ended up one step ahead of all of them.

The collision of Hayner’s shoulder into his snapped him back to reality, as it had been a little too forceful to be him drifting or any sort of accident. He tore his gaze away from the street and over to Hayner, who only greeted him with a cheeky grin.

“You still with us, Roxas?” He asked, not giving him a chance to reply before he continued, “or are you still back with her?”

“... _Her_?” Roxas parroted back, brows furrowed.

“The girl from the clinic? Y’know, [y/n]?” Hayner laughed, “man, Roxas, it’s like you’re in another world.”

“He’s probably still out of it from that fall. He _did_ hit the ground pretty hard,” Olette fell back into step with the rest of the group.

“Maybe he has a concussion,” Pence said, “you feeling okay, Roxas?”

He didn’t respond for a moment, shoving his hands into his pockets, focus on the street head of them. He nodded after a moment, ignoring the distant fog in the back of his mind, “yeah. I’m fine.”

Hayner nudged him, “c’mon, Roxas - she’s cute. I’d be stuck thinking about her too if she paid that much attention to me.”

“She’s nice, I guess.” He’d be lying if he said he’d put that much thought into you before - but then again, with everything distant and fuzzy, maybe he did. He couldn’t remember. But… he’d _definitely_ be lying if he said there wasn’t something off about you that got his attention. “There _is_ something about her, though…” He said, drifting off and back into this thoughts. Maybe it wasn’t just you. Maybe it wasn’t just the way your tongue no longer lingered and was now lost to him, as he could barely remember what the gentle graze of your fingers on his skin felt like.

“Aw, look at you Roxas. Didn’t think you could be such a _sap_ ,” Hayner said with a laugh.

“I’m not-” He said, cutting himself off, “I don’t like her? She’s nice. That’s all.” He paused, his steps slowing to a halt, “that’s _all_.” He repeated, because he could tell the gears in Hayner’s mind were preparing to work out some other quick quip.

Pence only seemed to shrug it off, “she seems pretty lonely.”

“Maybe she is.”

“It’s not like she can go out everyday and do whatever,” Olette interjected, turning to face the other boys, “she works in her parents’ clinic all day. She’s got a _job_ ,” she paused for half a second, “like we _were_ going to get.”

Had they planned on that? The only thing that stuck out in Roxas’s mind was that they wanted to go to the beach. If they’d planned on jobs, well, Roxas didn’t remember it - and by the looks of it, neither did Hayner or Pence.

“Still…” Pence said, breaking the small silence that had begun to grow amongst the group, “maybe we should see if we can invite her to hang out with us sometimes. Maybe she’ll say yes to that-”

“Doubt it.” Hayner shrugged, “c’mon. Let’s head back to the usual spot.”

Roxas still couldn’t shake the peculiar dreamlike feeling that washed over him every so often, making him feel like he was just on a track heading forward onto a designated path. And then there was the gnawing feeling, as if something was trying to escape from behind blockage, trying to resurface among the sea of thoughts. He only followed his group, taking steps that felt scripted, saying words that felt written into his being, and soon he forgot the feelings that had begun troubling him. Even with all these things weighing him down, he had friends. He had people to distract him, and the promises of another everyday adventure to await him when he woke up the next day. Maybe one day, this would include the beach. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all my writing happens at like. 4 am. that's the time the soul wakes. 
> 
> no set posting schedule for right now. if i'm still writing this by late august (which, most likely i will be) then maybe we'll figure something out then - but until then, have fun with my random updates. maybe i wont update for days. maybe i'll post twice in a day. who knows man.


	3. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you find some things.

While you spent most of your summer behind the front desk of the clinic, you _did_ get the chance to spend your sundays on your own. It wasn’t that the clinic was closed - more of that it was open for less hours, because your parents always had other things to take care of that you weren’t really needed for - or, in other words, you were technically too _young_ to help them with it. You didn’t question it, as you were glad to have a day for yourself. Sundays were often the days you’d head up to the Twilight Town Library and trade in the books you’d been hiding in your room for more books you’d have to hide in your room, or tote around with a false cover over it. You shoved your books and a notebook into your tote bag that morning, told your parents you’d be at the library, and headed out into the eternally sunset glazed Twilight Town, letting the chill of your home wash away as the warmth of the setting sun enveloped you.

To the outside eye, you were just a bookish young girl who’d rather spend her summers inside with your nose stuck in a book. The older patients at the clinic would often commend you on being such a studious young thing, always so dedicated to your studies - and then make the bold comment that your parents must be proud to have someone like you to take over the clinic one day. Of course, no one really knew the contents of the books you read, all laced together by a single thread: _magic_ .

Perhaps it was better that way, because you knew your parents opinion on magic had been negative ever since your older brother left. But you couldn’t help yourself - you remembered spending countless nights under blanket forts with your brother, reading about the greatest wizards out there or about the beginner’s guide to learning magic. While you struggled to pick it up, your brother took to one spell quickly and easily and never managed to move past it (as far as you knew, anyhow) - and thus began the constant ‘pranks’ of him greeting you with freezing fingers just because he knew it’d surprise you from how _icy_ his hands were, and how angry you’d always get in response.

And then after he left to go his own way, you picked up your side research of figuring out the _how_ and the _why_ and the _when_ and all the other ‘w’s you could think of. You didn’t think too much of the idea of actually wielding magic - you weren’t skilled enough on your own, nor did you really have the exact knowledge you assumed magic would take. All you had was a worn, leather-bound notebook full of notes that would only either be in your bag, in your hands, or hidden under your mattress.

Halfway into your walk across town, your shoulder bumped against another - and normally, you would have just shot a quick glance and apology over your shoulder before continuing on your way. But Roxas had looked up, his attention focused elsewhere until he began to recognize your face.

“Oh. Hey.” He finally said, still dazed for a moment.

“Hey Roxas,” you smiled, “staying out of danger? Where’s your group?”

“I’m… on my way to meet them,” he said. For a moment, you swore he sounded uncertain, but you shook off the thought immediately, passing it off as your imagination.

You slipped a hand up to the straps of your bag, tightly gripping them. “Ah. Well,” you shifted the bag, “be careful out there. I’m not gonna be at the clinic to patch you guys up again.”

He sort of chuckled at that, perplexing you momentarily. “Where are you going?”

“Library.” You caught his eyes flickering from your face to your bag, “returning some stuff. Finding something else to read.”

“Like what?”

You bit back the immediately instinct to say magic, just as you always did. Roxas could keep a secret, probably - but that wasn’t a risk you wanted to take. “Anything. Whatever’s interesting, honestly.” You paused for a second, “it just helps afternoons go by faster.”

“Oh.” Roxas seemed dazed again, looking past you into some world as if there was something you couldn’t even fathom behind you. Maybe there was. You weren’t one to limit the universe, especially with the promise of other worlds out there. To be frank, you honestly wondered what they were like. What the sun looked like there, or if the grass felt the same, or even if the air felt different. All you knew was Twilight Town: bright, soft, and clean.

After the growing silence started to make you uncomfortable, you finally spoke again, shifting your weight from one leg to the other. “Roxas? Are you okay? You seem out of it.”

He snapped back to reality, blinking in the sight of you - as if you hadn’t been standing in front of him for minutes before. “Sorry - I’m fine.”

You didn’t believe him - not fully, at least. While the boy was sometimes distant, he didn’t always have this look on his face, as if he were worlds apart from you and Twilight Town. “Are you sure? You can talk to me if you need to, Roxas.”

He mulled over the thought for a moment, before scratching at the back of his neck. “Just… weird dreams. Didn’t get much sleep.”

Unbeknownst to you, gears were starting to turn. You mask the worry that was bubbling up inside you and force a smile, “ah. I’ve been there before.” Your nails dug into your palm, “I hope you get some sleep tonight, Roxas.”

He nodded, “yeah… maybe it was just-” He didn’t continue, dropping whatever thought he had as realization crossed his face. “Hayner’s waiting on me - I gotta go, sorry-” He stumbled over an apology, taking a step back, “I’ll see you later, [y/n]!”

Before you could say anything, he took off. You only smiled, turning and continuing your walk up to the library, the sound of your footsteps feeling as if they were echoing around you - like you were the only one in Twilight Town. But that was silly. You could see kids playing along the street, adults going to and fro, a stray dog wandering - you weren’t alone. No matter how strange things felt, _you weren’t alone_.

The door of the library slammed shut behind you, making a noise bigger than you had intended. You approached the counter, the sleepy-looking teenager there snapping up at the sudden sound before realizing it was _you_ and relaxed once more. He was only about a year or two older than you were, slunk back in the chair in typical teenage fashion.

You didn’t blame him. You weren’t sure what was up with teenagers and working boring jobs sometimes - although his required a bit more movement and work than yours did sometimes. Then again - he wasn’t really working a _job_ , but volunteering at his father’s request (which had been something you’d discovered through idle chats while he checked out your books). But, nonetheless. he shot you a smile as he slid your returns across the desk, watching you for a moment as you wandered off into the library toward the section of magic books stashed deep in the back.

Finding your next read was never an easy task. The section of magic-related books didn’t have the most options, so there were plenty of books that you’d read and reread in an attempt to find any information you’d missed. You pulled books from their home, flipping through the ones with unfamiliar titles - only one or two of which you hadn’t read before, and you guessed that at least one of them was  a new addition to the library - and reshelving them carefully.

At the bottom of the shelf were a few books stuck out farther than the bookshelf, catching your attention as you kneel and hook your fingers into the spine of one, pulling it out and then another and another. Reaching back, your fingers met what felt like a paperback novel, which took a few grasps to pull it out of it’s secure place - but soon enough, you’d stood back up with it topping the small stack you’d acquired, the cover worn and faint but barely reading out _Tips and Tricks For the Aspiring Wizard_ with the author’s name faded out almost completely. You frowned, staring down at the novel, before deciding to head to check out the books. After a quick chat, you were on your way, bag slightly lighter than usual. Perhaps you’d have to start looking elsewhere, if your resources at the library were dwindling in usefulness.

A chill ran over you as you stepped into the warmth of the sun, and you winced at how it seemed to shake you more than it should have. You felt your hairs stand on end, as if someone had been staring you down, forcing some sort of reaction out of you. But when you looked around, there was nothing. You focused on counting the Struggle posters, trying to distract yourself from the strange feeling that washed over you. With every one was a reminder of what was to come.

Every year there was the Struggle tournament, and this year _you_ were supposed to be on duty to make sure no one walked away with a untreated concussion or anything. Apparently the town had decided instead of leaving it up to someone to hold a cold compress, they’d get someone from the actual clinic to come watch out for everyone - which, honestly, you couldn’t complain about because it meant you weren’t stuck behind a desk while your parents ran the clinic. Maybe this year someone would be able to beat Setzer.

While plenty of people fawned over the man, you didn’t see the point - he was always so _arrogant_ and _pompous_ , reigning champion or not. Either way, you were excited to watch the tournament as Roxas and Hayner’s names came up in conversation and you were glad to support them (and, hopefully, not be there just to patch the two of them up again). But even though you didn’t want to have to patch one of them up, you knew how hard a blow from a Struggle bat was - considering when he was younger, your brother competed once or twice and would practice with you.  So better _you_ than nobody. You were hoping that someone you knew - even _Seifer_ , who you’d never been friend nor foe of - would win and be able to take down

Speak of the devil. You’d caught sight of Seifer in the distance, his little gang of friends close to him and engaged in conversation. You planned on just walking past, no conversation, no acknowledgements - but Seifer had caught a glimpse of your face and recognized you almost immediately. You’d almost been completely past him when he stopped walking.

“Clinic girl.” He had called out, and you had to suppress a scowl at the name. “[y/n], right?” You looked back over your shoulder, and he continued speaking, “you’re working the Struggle tournament, right?”

“Word travels fast,” you shrugged, “what about it?”

“Keep an eye out for Hayner and his group of lamers,” he said, smirking, “they’ll probably need the attention.”

Rai grinned, his arms folded across his chest. “Seifer’s gonna come out on top this year, y’know!”

“Totally.” _Thanks, Fuu._

“Maybe,” you said, forcing a smile, “we never know!” You quickly bid them farewell and moved on, trying to suppress the memory of when Seifer got that scar.

While Twilight Town had a clinic, there _was_ also a place better suited for emergency care. But that didn’t stop Seifer - or rather, Rai, who’d been with him at the time - from pounding on your parents front door three year ago with a bloodied Seifer. They had rushed him to the clinic, you tagging along with your brother against your parent’s wishes, listening to Seifer (through the pain, as if it wasn’t even _hurting_ him) talk about some out-of-towner harassing someone and that he had to step in. That was sort of the day that made you reconsider your somewhat negative opinion on Seifer. Considering how full of himself he seemed to be, he did have his good moments.

You hurried home, bag feeling heavier as the thought of his bleeding face came to mind, and you could feel your stomach turn. Maybe you’d spend the rest of your day up in your room, reviewing notes or maybe cracking into one of the books you’d checked out that day. You had had enough with everything going on, and the next few days didn’t look any better. You just had to lace up your boots and trek onward, for that’s all you can do. But you were glad to do it.

Keep moving forward. For you, everyday was a new opportunity to learn. So learn you shall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want breakfast. im gonna go get breakfast. being eighteen is fun.
> 
> also birth by sleep is up here breakin my heart. god i love this game.


	4. three

“There’s an order for us down on Market Street. You know the place.” You’d just walked into the clinic, your bag slung over your back, when your mother addressed you without looking up from her work. “Please go pick it up for us.” She paused for half a breath, “we need these supplies today.” Which was your mother’s way of saying _go and don’t dawdle_. When you didn’t respond, she finally looked up at you, gaze steely cold with the glasses she wore to magnify it. You instinctively straightened up, shoulders tense as you finally managed a nod.

“Alright, mama,” you said, turning and walking straight back out of the clinic, the door slamming shut behind you as you hurried along, and you slightly _tense_ at that too - the sudden noise snapping you out of the daze that your mother had  brought you into.

Of course, every time you were in a hurry, something always seemed to come up. And today there were _four_ \- of course, the _usual_ four-  and one of them happened to catch you by the arm as you passed them by on your way up Market Street. You’d been forced to a stop, turning to face the boy as he finally greeted you.

“Hey, [y/n],” Hayner had said, “you haven’t heard anything ‘bout us, have you?”

It was way too early for this - and, frankly, you weren’t all that interested in whatever rumors had been flying around about Hayner and his friends, considering you had a job to do and right now - you were ready to just be _done_ with it instead of talking to Hayner. “No, Hayner,” you pulled your arm from his grasp, “I haven’t heard whatever gossip about you all.”

“Great! Have you noticed anything missing?” When you shook your head (mainly because, if there _had_ been something missing, you wouldn’t have known about it), he continued on, “... any ------?”

You stared at him. He had gone through the motions of making the word, and something inside of you could tell _what_ he was referring to. But silence spilled out, as if the word itself had been striked from the world. You furrowed your brow, attempting to repeat the word back to him. But it was gone: every syllable fell silent. “What?” You muttered, touching your neck as he nodded at you, taking a step back.

“Good! So we’re not crazy,” he sort of laughed it off, turning on his heel and heading back to his group without another word. You didn’t understand - but the little glint Hayner had in his eyes made you refuse to question it further. You had a job to do, and from that look alone, you could tell Hayner did too. So you turned, trekking onward to complete your current task, letting the idea of missing words and lost things flutter from your thoughts.

Ten minutes later, you were carrying a heavy box of supplies for the clinic, cursing whatever was all inside and the fact you had to make this trip alone. But you were glad that gravity was on your side as you walked down Market Street, letting each step fall heavily. You grasped the edges of the box tight, counting each step as you took it, trying to pep yourself up with the internal promise that you’d only have a little farther to go. When you managed to make it back to the clinic, you found your parents in the front office and waiting room, cleaning and adjusting things to fit their picture-perfect vision of what the clinic should look like. Your father looked up first, and he smiled at the sight of you. He adjusted a pillow on the little sofa, and crossed the room to greet you.

“Thank you,” he said, voice quiet as he took the heavy box from you with ease. Your father had always been the quieter of the two, the gentler - aside from when it came from certain idiotic blond boys, to which he was always a little harsher to - and, if you were honest, more openly loving.

That wasn’t to say that your mother didn’t love you - because she _did_. Her love was shown more through praise of your actions, and through scolding when worried and upset - something you’d gotten more and more used to over the years, as her scolding was never particularly harsh and always came through tears and during a hug. She had always been much more suited to rules and concrete detail, always focused on the absolute correct diagnosis and the solution with no room for error at all. That’s why being a doctor suited her perfectly: she did her job and she did it damn well. Your father was the same when it came to his job - but outside of it, that’s where your parents tended to differ. He was always a bit warmer, and you’d bonded closer to him through years of cooking alongside him and learning from his culinary prowess. You’d wondered why he didn’t do this professionally - and one day, a few years ago, you’d asked him and you still remember every detail, having that moment committed to memory.

He’d been stirring a soup, a hot burst of steam warming the kitchen. “Because we run the clinic.” He paused, looking down at you, “it used to belong to your grandmother, remember? And then she passed it down to me,” he said, attention drifting, “and then it’ll be passed down to your brother. Besides,” the clatter of the lid echoed in your mind, “Mel loves running the clinic.”

“Then why do you still work there?” You’d asked, watching him continue to stir.

“It’s what your grandmother expects, dear. She ran it with her husband,” he said, his attention drifting once more, “just as her father did, just as he did…” He paused. “It’s tradition.”

“You don’t _have_ to follow tradition, dad,” you had said, frowning.

“I like helping people,” he looked to you, “I’m happy to follow tradition,” he paused, “but what will we do with your brother?” He sighed, muttering that he “wants to be a musician,” before looking back at you, “he’ll learn to settle down and do what I do. He doesn’t have to give up his passions. He has to compromise.”

But he didn’t. You stared numbly down at the desk you’d finally sat down at after minutes of watching your parents work, the quiet of the front office and waiting room becoming grating. And now your brother was off doing whatever he loved, hopefully. Maybe your parents wouldn’t have a problem if _you_ were interested in magic, as you knew your fate: stay in Twilight Town, grow up, and take over the clinic. It was _tradition_.

Then again, you’d never really been one for tradition.

-x-

The clinic closed everyday at five in the afternoon, leaving you to have several hours for yourself left in the day. The trains had made their final runs to the beach or anywhere else interesting - leaving that ticked off of your list of possibilities. You could always take the town line and read on Sunset Hill - which was what you usually ended up doing, as it was basically the cheapest option with no actual cost to it. But that day, you resigned to wandering Twilight Town, letting your thoughts become background noise as you didn’t focus on where to go. You didn’t notice the usual group wandering the streets at first - but soon you heard Hayner call your name and snap you from the spell you’d gone under, and you saw them heading past the few stores of the Tram Common. After a moment, you collected your thoughts, registering where exactly you were as you approached them.

“Hey,” Hayner said, “c’mon. Clinic’s closed, right?” You dumbly nodded, staring at him and his group, hands tight on your bag. You felt like you were in school again. “Then c’mon. Come hang out with us for a minute.”

What did you have to lose? So you simply nodded again, following the group up towards Market Street without another word.

You almost didn’t notice the bruises on Roxas’s arm. “What happened to you _this_ time, Roxas?”

He looked over at you with a playful smile, chuckling softly before answering you. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“Caught a thief,” he shrugged, “fought Seifer and won,” he paused, “that’s really about it.”

You only smiled. “I guess you were right,” you said, catching another smile, “I’ll believe it when I see it, Roxas.” You ended up swaying a little too close to him, bumping into his side and causing the smallest hiss of pain to emit from him. “Sorry - how beat up did you _get?_ ”

“I’m _fine_ ,” he stressed, “I just fell.”

“Fell _where_?” He’d almost answered until you continued, “c’mon, Roxas, it’s gotta be you or Hayner that wins the tournament. You can’t win if you barely move.”

It took him a moment, but he chuckled again, “I’m _fine_ ,” he said, dragging the word out. “Are you really putting all your faith on us?”

You didn’t hesitate to respond. “Yep!” You said, popping the ‘p’ on the word, “gotta be one of you - or Vivi, I guess. Seifer’s being a pest again.” Roxas smiled at that.

Despite hearing about the place countless times and the fact you knew every inch of Twilight Town, you’d never actually _been_ at ‘The Usual Spot’ - as that’s what the place was always called by the group. It was like what you expected any back alley place to look like, boxes and brick and beaten down furniture. But even with all of that, there was a few personal touches: a dart board, a poster saying _‘Welcome to Twilight Town_ ’, the beaten-up moss-colored couch pressed against a wall. Despite all the exposed piping and the electric box and the brick, it felt home-y and warm and welcoming to you (and, honestly, any other kids your age).

Hayner leaned against the electric box, pulling something out of his pocket and holding out one as the four of you gathered round. “What’s _this_?” He asked, extending his arm lightly more so that all of you could see better.

You could recognize Biggs inside of his shop, laid-back and hands shoved in his pockets with a sheepish smile - and in front of his shop was Roxas, who looked happy yet… vaguely uncomfortable, leaning against the counter of the shop. “I was his first customer after he took over the shop,” Roxas explained with a shrug, “so we took a picture together.”

“It’s a really nice photo!” Olette said with a smile, before realizing she’d said that word - _photo_ \- which had been escaping you and Hayner earlier that morning. You looked from her to Pence, and then finally to Hayner as he reclined back a bit more in his spot. When asked about the picture thief, Roxas seemed just as perplexed as the rest of you - saying that the pictures were just… lying there on the ground, outside of the old mansion. Hayner scowled at the fact they didn’t have any proof that _they_ hadn’t taken them (something you hadn’t heard all day, considering you spent almost all of it stuck inside the clinic) before presenting another picture - this time of Roxas next to Jessie, a shopkeeper in town that was always a sweetheart to everyone.

You watched Hayner smirk at the photo, “it’s a _girl_.”

“You look happy, Roxas-”

“Do _not_.” He frowned, and you could see the blush creeping up his neck and cheeks - which you couldn’t help but smile at how flustered he’d become.

The entire time, you felt like an outsider - just listening to their conversation and revelation at the fact that all the pictures were of Roxas. When Pence presented a picture of the four of them standing outside the old mansion, a pain plucked at your heart as you wonder if life would be different if you had befriended all of them - and by that, you meant _really_ befriended them. No passing friendship, something _real_ and _deep_ . Maybe you wouldn’t have to spend so much time in the clinic then, if your father saw you hanging out with friends. You felt… _left out_ of being a teenager, of making that many friends because you’d always been stuck in your books and in your studies, focus on keeping your grades high for future purposes.

You left the spot first as the group dispersed for the day, talk of dinner and tomorrow being the main topic as the group walked out. Clutching the straps of your bag, you started to take off on your walk home. But quick steps approached you, forcing your attention to the blond that stepped into pace beside you.

“Hey - uh, I live over on the same side of town as you… maybe we can walk home together?” Roxas asked. You only shrugged and nodded, as the two of you took off walking once more.

The silence started being too much. So you finally spoke, looking over to Roxas, “did you sleep any better last night?”

Dazed for a moment, you could see Roxas only blink in the sight of you for a moment before shoving his hands into his pockets, realizing what he’d told you yesterday. “Not really.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” you frowned. After a moment, you debated asking him something - and then, ultimately, decided you’d just go ahead and ask. “What are your dreams even about, Roxas?”

“They’re…” He began, before pausing. He didn’t seem sure. “I don’t know?”

He slowed to a stop. You did too, after a moment, leaving you a few steps ahead of Roxas, and you looked back at him, the glow of the sun behind him bright enough to send a hand up to shield your eyes. “Are you okay?” You ended up asking, watching him look back up at you.

“Yeah… It’s just-” He paused for a second, “I don’t know, I haven’t slept well.”

“Maybe you should write things down,” you said, resuming your walk as he started again, “don’t you have a diary, Roxas?”

“ _Yeah_ but - how did you-”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I’ve seen you writing in it once or twice. Plus Hayner always talks about how you seem to write everything down, like you’ll forget even the simplest thing.” He didn’t speak, only staring at you. You frowned, “sorry Roxas. Do you not have a good memory? I mean - I can relate to that,” you sort of forced a smile then, trying to pick things back up, “maybe I should write things down too.”

“Maybe I’ll try to write my dreams down.”

You looked over to him, “you can always talk to me about your dreams, Roxas. Alright?”

He nodded slowly, uncertain. Maybe he would.

-x-

A black cloaked figure watched in the distance as Roxas walked beside a girl, talking idly and happily with her. He pressed his lips into a line, having watched every moment - Roxas lying to her about where he lived (for he knew that Roxas lived above that spot that he and his little friends hung out at), the talk of dreams. He couldn’t help to wonder what was so special about her - the daughter of the couple that runs the clinic. Especially now that Roxas seemed to have taken an interest in her. The figure turned, walking off.

No matter. Soon enough, none of it would matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i should go ahead and say this now:
> 
> it's entirely up to you what your relation to your parents is. whether they're adoptive, biological, whatever - that's up to you. 
> 
> also i stunned ventus so many times while playing the command board bc he was beating me.  
> fuck you, ven. i love u but my competitiveness is too strong.
> 
> also these chapters are supposed to get longer once i get into the story a bit more. im following the beginning of kh2 for the next couple chapters (through all the days in the opening, so like... five more chapters, one being more roxas-centric for... hopefully obvious reasons) and then im hopping into readers own, actual story. gotta get that sweet build-up before i start breaking hearts and breaking parts. (im kidding i promise)
> 
> also me? hurting roxas and giving him (and everyone) realistic injury? you bet i am. no cure here, bitch, we use that shit later.
> 
> also gonna go ahead and throw out there: theres gonna be some major kh2 spoilers here. like. if you havent played the game to completion (trust me i get that bc i also suck at playing video games to completion with my adhd ass) then theres ur warning babes bc its not gonna come again
> 
> thank u for all the kudos i love u all and i hope u get to pet a dog


	5. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> roxas seems better. you seem lonely.

As per usual, you spent most of the day in the clinic. You were positioned comfortably, feet kicked up on the side of the desk - out of sight of any walk-in patients - and a clear schedule for the next two hours. Days like these were always a blessing, since it meant you had more free time than usual. And after a while of just waiting for the minutes to tick by, you push back from the desk, standing and grabbing your little coin purse of money and circle around to go off to the little candy shop out in the Tram Common - not too far from the clinic’s front door.

That’s when you saw Roxas with an arm full of Struggle posters, running around and sticking in different spots, and when you thought about it you remembered seeing something about a job being advertised on one of the boards around town. You crossed the common to the front window of the shop, greeting the woman who ran it, pointing out things you wanted for the bag she’d always put together, all while talking to her about whatever came to mind. Her cat nuzzled it’s head against your hand as you pointed something else out, leaving you not to reject a request for attention from a kitty as you started to scratch him on the top of his head.

Roxas rushed past you, only a few posters left in his hands, and you realized how he looked livelier and healthier compared to yesterday. Maybe he had some decent rest this time. He deserved it, considering how beat up he always seems to get and how tired he’d be sometimes. He skid to a stop near you, pressing the poster against the wall with one arm and tearing pieces of tape.

“Hey!” He greeted you, only giving you a swift glance before turning his attention back to the poster.

“You seem chipper.” You said, watching him work. The rustle of a bag caught your attention, and you fished out the munny for her, thanking her quickly. “What are you up to today, Roxas?”

“We’re going to the beach!” He was beaming, filled to the brim with happiness. You liked seeing Roxas this happy - his eyes would _sparkle_ and you couldn’t help but smile.

“That’s great! I’m glad you guys get to go.” You paused, “I’m distracting you from work, aren’t I?”

He seemed stunned for a second before realizing he _did_ just get caught up in talking to you. “I guess it’s payback for distracting you all the time.”

“Perhaps it is. Go get paid, Roxas. Have fun at the beach for me, alright?” You grasped your bag, the crinkling filling the air.

He only smiled at you before running off in another direction. You envied him.

-x-

Odd jobs around the town were easy. He was paid pretty well for poster duty - a hundred munny for every twenty posters put up, given he didn’t dawdle too long (and luckily, his little side conversation wasn’t too much) - and then there was delivering mail around the town, which was fine enough considering he was skateboarding the entire time, wind running through his hair and his grasp tight on the messenger bag he’d been given. For the most part, a lot of it was mindless considering he knew Twilight Town and had a general idea of where a lot of places were with some addresses being much more familiar than others. Soon enough, Roxas would have enough for the beach and for pretzels, and he’d finally get his day with his friends at the beach - like he’d been wanting all summer.

And while he rode through the town, free as a bird, he thought about you. He never knew _why_ he started to think of you. But he did. He remembered how distant you used to be, and now you were present as could be, now more apart of his story - or maybe he was finally given a part in yours. But even still, he saw desire in your eyes. You were fifteen, just like him, and you spent your days inside _working_ \- and something about that seemed to upset him more than it should. You were a _kid_. If anything, you should be running around just like him and Pence and Olette, trying to gather enough money to go to the beach and have pretzels. But instead you were inside in the cold, nose stuck in a book, with summer wasting away in front of you.

Then he remembered what you’d said yesterday. That he could share his dreams with you. This time he did remember bits and pieces. He remembered _Sora_ , who looked a year younger than him with eyes as bright as the ocean and courage to back him up. He remembered Donald and Goofy. And then he remembered a girl. _Kai_ -

And that was it. That’s all he remembered, aside from that blade - the _keyblade_ , which he’d held yesterday and, if he really thought about it, he could still feel the weight of it in his hand. Maybe you’d find interest in all of this. Maybe one day he’ll swing by and walk you home again and talk about his dreams while treating you to that ice cream he owed you. Then again, maybe he’d be lucky to actually catch you outside of the clinic again. Maybe you almost always headed straight home after the clinic closed. He slid one foot to the front of his board, adjusting his position slowly, and then pressed down, leaping as his board twirled underneath him, before landing comfortably back down on the board. Roxas couldn’t help but smile as he head back to get paid for his work.

With over a thousand munny in his pockets, Roxas took off for the station. _They’d finally get to go to the beach!_ No matter the bruises and aches and pains that he had accumulated over the past few days - none of that could keep him from the beach now. He greeted his group, and after totalling up everything they’d earned to equal five thousand munny, Olette handed him the bag - and for a moment, he’s not exactly sure why she would, but he grinned and accepted it anyway - before running inside the station with Pence following her.

Right as he was about to take off, Hayner spoke. “We can’t be together forever…” Roxas turned to look at him, Hayner not giving any attention as he continued, “so we better make the time we _do_ have something to remember.”

Right. Pence and Olette had wanted the four of them to stay together, hadn’t they? And then… Hayner was oddly realistic in the best of ways. “Huh?”

Hayner grinned, trying to hide it before punching him in the stomach with a “gotcha!” before running off into the station. Roxas couldn’t help but wince as the pain seemed amplified, and that’s when he realized he’d somehow managed to forget about yesterday. He started walking toward the station, trying to ignore the lingering pain that had been slowly dying off.

And then, within seconds, he was on the ground. He pushed himself onto his knees, hand flying to his jaw as pain started to spread through - why was _he_ always getting hurt? When he looked up, there stood a black-cloaked figure who arrived bathed in silence, not speaking a word before grabbing him by the arm and pulling him to his feet.

“ _Can you feel Sora_?”

As quickly as the man had came, he disappeared with a confused Roxas left to stand alone. Hayner called out to him, bringing him back to reality. And then the munny pouch was _gone_ and he was even more confused than he was before, and disappointment set in quickly. No beach trip, no munny, and only a melting sea salt ice cream in his hand. They hadn’t seen him? He pursed his lips, mind running amok with thoughts of theories and questions only for all of them to come up with the same block every time.

“C’mon, dude, cheer _up_ already!” Hayner said after countless minutes of watching Roxas mope, knee drawn up underneath his arm.

“It’s just… _weird_.”

He could _feel_ Pence’s gaze settled on him. “Maybe you should go see a doctor or something.”

“ _Yeah_ , go to the clinic and see that girl he likes. _That’ll_ help him.”

“I don’t-” Roxas started, before cutting himself off. Maybe he would go see you. Maybe you could come up with something - or maybe you’d _believe_ him. That’s sort of all he really wanted in the end - to _not_ feel like he was going crazy.

And then those four words came back to mind. _Can you feel Sora?_

-x-

The jingling of munny filled the air as the black-cloaked figure tossed a small peach colored pouch, as he and the other man in the room continued their conversation. The disappointment of Roxas shone through, all because they didn’t want to risk another entrypoint for the enemy. He understood. But at the same time, the smallest pang of guilt was sent through him. He ignored it. He didn’t have the time to feel guilty - he didn’t have the time to feel anything _at all_ . He had a job to do. He wasn’t going to be deterred by anything, no matter who or what it was. The figure pressed his back further into the cold wall as he resumed tossing it and catching it. There was a plan and they would stick to it, and nothing was going to stand in their way - for this is what _had_ to be done.

But even still - there was one cog in this machine that felt out of place. He’d seen the clinic girl before, and there she was again. She’d never been part of the plan from day one. Roxas had his friends, his life, memories implanted in but _she_ had not been apart of any of it. So then why was this clinic girl always managing to snake her way into Roxas’s story? More importantly, it had begun to feel like Roxas was stepping off of the tracks set for them in order to interact. Each day planned down, every action in place - but all because of _her_ , things felt… _broken_ . Why was he getting close to her? Or maybe… why were _you_ getting close to him? Roxas’s fate was sealed. Nothing could change that.

He frowned at the thought. He wasn’t sure what to think - and, honestly, he didn’t _want_ to consider it any further. The ending had been set in place. One way or another, Roxas would get there, spontaneous actions or not.

“You shouldn’t dwell so much on this.” He looked over to the seated figure. He continued speaking, eyes never leaving the monitors in front of him. “We needn’t worry about Roxas’s… _acquaintances_. They shan’t have an effect on anything.” Maybe his silence spoke words, stringing his story better than he could ever have.

But the thought stayed. Sure, he knew what would come of all of this - but in the end… what would Roxas do?

How far would this ending push him over the edge?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i almost forgot abt posting this today
> 
> give roxas the beach trip he deserves.


	6. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a secret gets told. some bonding occurs.

When Roxas woke up that morning, there was an ache in his jaw and the feeling of lingering eyes that didn’t leave him for the rest of the day. Later waking up on pavement with a familiar weight in his hand, although nothing was there, didn’t help the situation at all. And now, Hayner was mad at him because he thought that Roxas was hanging out with Seifer’s gang (which, Roxas wasn’t sure _why_ Hayner would believe that and refuse to hear an explanation, but at the same time… he would probably be pretty miffed too) all day, missing yet another chance to go to the beach - _and_ the Struggle tournament was tomorrow. When Hayner pushed past him to go home, he felt the strangest sensation of guilt pool in his stomach when... he didn’t see why? He’d been fighting those _things_. It wasn’t as if he tried to blow the whole day off.

Then he found you. He hadn’t been looking for you, but he always seemed to bump into you in one way or another. This time you’d been sitting on a bench, reading somewhere - and that was the moment Roxas realized that he must have been out for a while if _you_ were out doing things. He debated approaching you, watching you completely entranced by whatever you were reading, but when you happened to glance up and see him, he decided he might as well now.

“Hey.” He strode over to you, hands stuffed into his pockets, “what are you reading?”

 _Magic book. The usual_. You only smiled at him, “something I found at the library.”

“What’s it about?”

“History.” You said without missing a beat. Something about how quickly you’d answered, how _general_ that was ( _history_ , Roxas thought, not even a _specific_ history), all of it didn’t bode well with Roxas.

“You’re not gonna tell me anymore than that, are you?”

You chuckled. _Apparently not_. He watched you close your book, setting it down next to you as you reclined a bit. “You okay, Roxas? You seem down.”

 _Where to begin_. “Do… you ever feel like you’re-” he paused, contemplating for a moment, “like you’re stuck in a dream? Like… nothing’s real?”

You hadn’t expect that answer. But you pressed your lips together, mulling over the thought. “Sometimes.” He sunk into the spot next to you, making you turn to face him. “But,” you caught his attention, “I don’t think _you’re_ dealing with dissociation.”

“... Dissociation?” He asked, frowning slightly.

“It’s a mental thing. Like… sort of a disconnect, I guess. At least… that’s what it’s like for me.”

“... Oh.”

You smiled at him. “Why don’t we talk over that ice cream you owe me?”

His eyes widened for a moment - _he’d forgotten about that_. But he smiled, nodding as he hopped up, promising to be back in a few minutes. When he returned brandishing two sea salt ice creams, you couldn’t help but smile. His fingers grazed against your for a moment as you fumbled with taking the ice cream from him, but you shrugged that thought away as you thanked him.

“So,” you said, waving your ice cream slightly to punctuate the thought, “tell me about those dreams you’ve been having - if you remember any of them.”

 _Oh - right_ . He _had_ been wanting to talk to you about them. So, settling into his spot, he started just aimlessly rambling about all he could remember: _Sora_ , about this… _girl_ , about the keyblade, and then he said something about all of the rest of it being fuzzy. Like… it was another life or something, and all the pieces had been missing before. You didn’t speak the entire time, mainly because none of what he said had been making any sense to you. But you reached out, your fingers brushing over his hand, and he didn’t look up at the sudden touch. He looked so _focused_ , brows furrowed and eyes sparkling.

You’d noticed before that Roxas had pretty eyes. But this… _this_ would have been the moment that had solidified that fact into your mind. No matter what emotion washed over Roxas, his eyes were _gorgeous_ . He looked as if he were _unreal_. Like… he was worlds apart from you. You pulled your hand away from his, resting it in your lap as you distracted yourself with the salty-sweet taste of ice cream. Silence had never been comfortable before, but with Roxas, at that time, the silence was welcomed. It had created a sort of warm pause for the two of you, leaving you to contemplate his dreams and to enjoy the slowly melting ice creams you both held.

He decided to change the topic. “The Struggle tournament’s tomorrow.”

“So it is.” A cold drip of ice cream ran over your fingers, and you quickly tried to wipe it away. “I’ll be there to take care of you guys if you get beat up again.”

“Just like you always do,” Roxas laughed. “It seems like _you_ bandage me up more than your parents do.”

“That’s because _you_ always happen to get hurt whenever they’re out. Geez, Roxas, you’re lucky you’re still alive.” You sort of laugh, before you spotted the faint purple bruises lining his jaw. “Like - look at you, you’re _bruised_ \- I wish you could see your jaw.” You reached up, brushing your fingers along where fresh bruises had formed along his jawline and under his chin. “What happened?”

“I fell in front of the station,” he said, trying to ignore the worried looks you’d been giving him. “... _and_ in the Sandlot, I think.”

“You _think_? What are we going to do with you, Roxas?” He barely caught the smile that was pulling at the corners of your lips, hidden behind a forced sigh. “Just remember to ice it when you get home. See if that helps any swelling.”

“Whatever you say, doc.”

You almost finished off the rest of your ice cream, glancing down to the book by your side. You decided to risk it. “Roxas? Promise you won’t tell anyone this?” He only stared at you for a moment, nodding after a second, and you decided to continue on after picking your book back up. “So… the library _happens_ to have a small section on magic. _And_ ,” you dragged the word out, “they’re pretty fascinating. I mean - no one around here seems to _know_ or _use_ magic that often, or… really _fight_ in general, aside from what you guys do in Struggle tournaments. But… I dunno, it _fascinates_ me.”

He only stared at you. “Are you trying to learn?”

“Would you call me a witch if I were?”

“I’d call you pretty cool.” He sort of smiled, looking away, “I’ve seen people use magic in my dreams.” He paused, trying to remember specifics. “Like… that duck I told you about, and sometimes Sora.”

“Maybe you could use magic in another life, Roxas.”

He snorted at that. “Yeah, in my _dreams_. I prefer Struggle Bats.”

“I know you do,” you hummed, finishing off the last little chunk of ice cream off of the stick. “Good luck tomorrow, Roxas. I’ll be cheering you guys on.”

“Thanks!” He watched you stand, stretching slightly as you could hear satisfying little pops from your bones.

“I think… I might go out to Sunset Terrace sometime this week.” You picked up your book, twirling the stick between your fingers, “Sunset Hill is a really nice place to sit and read at, Roxas.”

“What about the clinic?”

“I’ve got the rest of the week off, since there’s a few days of summer left.” You look away from Roxas, biting back a comment about how they seemed to finally  realize you’re still a teenager. He didn’t need to hear that. You look down to the popsicle stick in your hand, before grinning as you held it up for Roxas to see, the word _WINNER_ proudly etched into it. “I gotta go but…” You held it out to him, “you should keep this.”

He hesitated to take it, not breaking eye contact. His brows furrowed, “why are you-”

“You’ll always be a winner to me, alright? Whether you win tomorrow or not.” Your grasp on your book tightened slightly, and you tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, wondering where exactly they came from. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Roxas.”

“Yeah… Tomorrow.” He said softly, watching you walk away.

The strangest sense of sadness washed over him when you disappeared into the distance. He looked down at the stick, staring at it for a moment.

“... Why does this feel so familiar?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> double post, baby. im hoping that the double post makes up for how short these last two chapters feel.  
> ive got a 54 page doc of an outline for this fic. im only now onto page 9.  
> buckle up, kiddos. we've got a ride ahead of us.  
> this is a fun fic to write. ive always dabbled in writing reader fics for other fandoms, but i never actually branched out into writing for like... one of my all-time favorite games (+ one of my top comfort games bc 'dearly beloved' takes away so much stress)
> 
> also i literally write these chapters, do a quick read-over, and then i post em  
> so i wrote two chapters today and im legit abt to get started on the next  
> maybe i'll start including some of my dumb notes in these lmao  
> like nothing serious just the rly rly dumb ones
> 
> anyway thank u for reading!!! and for all the kudos!!! i die at any instance of praise sdkfjhsdh


	7. six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> roxas wins.
> 
> you realize a loss.

“Can you _please_ be still.”

If there was one thing you’d picked up from your mother, it was the slight tone of annoyance you’d get when patients like Seifer refused to stay still for more than a second at a time. Every single time you started to press it against the back of his scalp, he’d jerk or he’d hiss or he’d complain in some way - always _moving_ . You pressed an ice pack onto the back of his head, watching Seifer scowl and let out a soft _hiss_ at the sudden frosty contact. He was wringing his beanie between his fists, eyes pinned to the ground. You kept a steady hand on his shoulder, the other wrapped around the freezing plastic pack, keeping it pressed firmly there.

“I just don’t understand what happened!” Seifer growled. You didn’t blame him at all - _you_ were shocked to see Vivi attack him all in an instant, leaving Seifer splayed out on the stage. He hadn’t shown any signs of major trauma at all, leaving you to basically stand there and try to numb the pain while the next match was being set up.

“I don’t think any of us do, Seifer. Maybe it was just bad-” He looked toward where Vivi was waiting, making you scowl in response, “ _be still_ \- just bad luck.”

“I’ve fought against Vivi before and _won_ \- this was a fluke. Vivi’s not that strong-”

“ _Be still_.” You snarled at him, growing more and more annoyed by his constant movement. When you looked over toward the opposing side of the arena, you saw Roxas, who’d been focused on watching and waiting for the match to be set up. He happened to look over in your direction, giving you a shy smile in response. You looked back to Seifer, slightly less stressed than you had been before. “Does it still hurt?”

“Sorta.” But he pulled away anyhow, pulling his beanie back over his blond hair, scanning the crowd for his friends. He waved them over, before looking back at you, “I’m out.”

“Seifer-”

“That wasn’t Vivi.” He pressed his lips together, shooting a glance over to Roxas as Rai and Fuu approached. “Go cheer for your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my-” You started to protest as he walked away with his friends in tow, stopping to say something to Roxas and then to the man running the tournament. Your fingers were freezing. You thought of your brother as you looked back to the ring. He’d love to watch this. Not without teasing you over Roxas, of course, but he’d be _glad_ to sit alongside here and make snide jokes that you’d hate laughing at - but at the same time, you _loved_ them because that was just how your brother was.

Sometimes, if you put a little more thought into it, you could come up with some of the stupid quips your brother would say. The playful jokes you know he’d throw Seifer’s way at the sudden loss, the small remarks he’d be making about how he’d rather be up there competing instead of spectating again. He always had the same excuse: he was _‘out-of-practice_ ’ - as if you didn’t see him with a Struggle Bat in the Sandlot, fighting against one of his friends for practice. But you didn’t dare rat him out - you didn’t want to hear your mother get frustrated with him “throwing away his potential” as a doctor again, spending his days practicing and writing songs or working on his combat skills with friends.

You almost didn’t realize how hard you were squeezing the pack, your fingers numb with cold, condensation dripping to the ground.

Anger always seemed to find its way into you whenever your brother came to mind. Strangely enough, it had never been directed at _him_ . You’d always been somewhat angry at your mother, for being so strict with him and keeping him from what he wanted all in the name of a stupid “tradition” - despite the fact that neither you nor your brother wanted to take over the stupid clinic when you were older. You’d been angry at your father, for not fighting enough to keep your brother there. For not reasoning enough with your mother. You were angry at the clinic, for being such a boring cage of a place, for being passed along under the idea of it being “tradition” in your family - as if your father wasn’t more of a chef than a doctor, as if you didn’t see the paintings your grandmother made, as if the old inventions of your great-grandfather didn’t still litter the attic because they were _memories_ to be kept.

And if you were brutally honest, you were angry with yourself. Because everytime you thought about it, you could have fought your parents and gone with your brother, or you could have convinced him to stay long enough for you to get out of school - to grin and bear it beside you until you _both_ had a safe start out in the world. To come back and see you every once in a while, even if your parents didn’t know. You didn’t try enough.

Then again… Who _did_ try enough?

The pack in your hands threatened to burst.

-x-

The rest of the tournament went by in a blur: Roxas beat Vivi, and then he took down Setzer with ease. You’d leapt onto the platform along with everyone else, cheering and screaming Roxas’s name as he held up the champion belt, and he had the widest grin you’d ever seen him have, eyes bright as they could be. Roxas rivaled the sun when he was shining with confidence. He barely had time to grab the trophy before you’d ran up to him, throwing your arms around him, congratulating him over and over. The heat radiated off of his face - or maybe you’d imagined it, because you knew _you_ were blushing as well, before you let him go and step back. He smiled at you, before realizing all of his friends had been watching the two of you, and then he apologized - saying he had to go, and that he’d see you tomorrow and that was a _promise_.

Roxas left with his friends. You stood there, as people swept at confetti and started wrapping everything back up. After a moment, you stepped down from the platform, walking over to where you’d set up your little space, starting to pack up the few supplies you’d bought with you. The entire time, you couldn’t shake off the feeling you were being watched. But everytime you stole a glance around, no eyes were on you.

-x-

“It’s almost cruel to pull him out of this.” He hadn’t expected to hear some sort of compassion, considering how cold he’d seen this man be before when talking about Roxas. He didn’t show reaction as he pulled the cloak of his hood down, hiding his face more than before.

“She’s a program. She’s not the real deal.”  The black-cloaked figure said, arms folded across his chest. He’d seen you, the way you flushed and he could tell that your heart had been racing when you’d hugged Roxas after his win. He’d seen Roxas, face red and the stupidest little smile on his face - the same smile he’d seen before on his other.

“And he never _shall_ meet her.”

Ansem could only stare at the screens, the pale teal glow illuminating most of the room. “Not as himself, that is.”

DiZ looked back to the screens in front of him, “imagine if he could keep living in this world.” He stifled a laugh, Ansem’s eyes burning into his back. “How sad.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> accidental triple post because im on a ROLL, BABY
> 
> that being said  
> whether i write another chapter or not  
> im saving it for tomorrow  
> (she types, probably lying)
> 
> uhhh dumb note for this fic:  
> diz said its sad and after that bullet point, i put the words "and sad it is, bitch"  
> i promise they get dumber over time


	8. seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the last time he sees you.

Sunset Hill was one of the quietest places in Twilight Town, only in the sense that people didn’t often go up there. The sound of trains felt constant, the wind almost always a soft whistle, sometimes there were even a couple birds chirping - all of it added to the ambience of Sunset Hill. On good days, you’d come up to sit and read, basking in the warm glow of the sun as the world went on around you for a bit. With the first day off you received, you knew exactly what you were going to do. So you packed your little bag with the books you’d checked out, a bracelet you’d made for Roxas while bored the previous night, then shoved in your leather-bound notebook and a few pens and pencils, and took off toward the station to hop on the town line. There was always something  _ thrilling _ about going to Sunset Terrace. Maybe it was because of the ride over, always making things feel a little more adventurous. 

When you were younger, you remembered coming up to the station with your brother’s hand in yours - just as a safety measure to keep you tethered to him,  _ just in case _ . He’d always just look at the schedule longingly, talking about maybe taking you down to the beach one day so that you can spend summer  _ right _ rather than being stuck at home or with one of your parents friends while everyone else worked. Even with you and your brother saving up your allowances, you never did end up going somewhere. The two of you had found a couple jars, and everytime you both received your allowance for the week, some of it always ended up in the jars. 

Now that you thought about it, you never checked to see if he left any of your money behind. You always assumed he’d taken all of it with him when he left, and even though you had two years to push past your feelings, you’d never checked his room further than a quick scan to look for a note, a letter, an  _ anything _ to tell you where he was or if he was coming back. Even thinking about it now would make your stomach churn, pain spiking through you. There had been this notebook you’d kept with your brother, making a list of things to do and places to go whenever the two of you went out on your adventure together. Maybe you’d find it again. Maybe you could use a good crying session again. You could remember small things: trying fruit from others worlds, meet a wizard, see royalty, watch a festival somewhere. Part of you held onto the hope that your brother would come back, that he’d reappear at the end of summer with a grin, calling out ‘ _ ace _ ’ or one of your other nicknames to you. As much as you hated some of your brothers stupid pranks - mainly his  _ frozen touch _ \- you missed them the most.

You bit into your bottom lip, pain swelling in your chest at the thought. You refused to cry - not here, on the town line where anyone could see. You hated crying in front of others, because it always ended in too much attention and all the wrong questions being asked, all the intrusive people trying to get to the root of problems that often weren’t easily fixed. So you promised yourself that you won’t break down in front of anyone else ever again. That was a promise you forced yourself to keep sometimes.

A chime broke you from your thoughts, announcing the arrival of Sunset Terrace station. You gathered yourself, locking away feelings as you adjusted the straps of your bag as the train slowed to a stop. The whoosh of hot air leaked into the train as the doors slid open, and you embraced it as you made your way from the station to Sunset Hill. You settled onto a bench after your trek, withdrawing a book from your bag and forced your attention on your book. After a while, you almost didn’t notice the disturbance of grass as a certain group walked up, and - as fate would have it - four familiar faces appeared. 

“Why is it,” Hayner began, “wherever we go,  _ you’re _ always there?”

“Well… hello to you too, Hayner,” you closed your book, fingers sandwiched in between. You stifled a laugh.

“I’m serious!” He exclaimed, “everywhere Roxas is, you’re always around.”

“Maybe it’s just Roxas who happens to be where I am.” You slid your fingers out of the book once you see them sit down, staring out at the tracks. You’d been hoping they’d only been on a walk, honestly. “So,” you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees, “what are you all up to today? Trying to find the  _ ghost train _ ?” You teased.

Judging by the looks you received, you’d been right on the nose. Roxas sat toward the edge of the fence, watching intently at the tracks in the distance. Ignoring the glance you’d received from Hayner once you shoved your book back into your bag and stood, you relocated yourself into the empty spot next to Roxas.

“So, Roxas,” you began, “what’s up with this whole ghost train business?”

“Olette’s making us do homework-”

“Because you  _ said _ you’d do it today!” Olette interjected. You couldn’t suppress a smile.

“So we’re investigating the “Seven Wonders of Twilight Town.”” Then he launched into a explanation and their conclusion for each one - all mundane and boring. You only frowned in response - there  _ had _ to be some other explanation for these wonders.

“What about you?” Olette asked, “did you get your summer assignment done?”

“Yep. Wrote it on clinic work.” You held back a scowl at the boring topic - but it was an  _ easy _ write, after all, you couldn’t be bothered to write it on anything else.

Minutes ticked by, leaving the group for casual conversation that soon melted into a peaceful silence. You leaned forward, resting your chin on your arms. Then you remembered the bracelet, tucked away in a little zippered compartment inside your bag. You rustled through it, pushing books and other materials out of the way as you managed to snag the zipper, frustratedly fussing with it for a minute until it became completely loose from the material it’d become stuck on, and pulled it out. It hadn’t been anything special - just blocky, white beads with bold black lettering that spelled out  **_WINNER_ ** between a row of red and blue beads, all held together by a black elastic.

“I made this for you,” you said, holding it out for Roxas to take. “I figured it’d be much easier to keep up with than a popsicle stick,  _ champ _ .”

He flushed, cheeks pinker than usual as he tenderly took the bracelet from your hand, slipping it onto his wrist. “Oh - uh- thanks-”

As if on cue, Seifer appeared to make fun of the group for waiting on the _ghost train_ once inquiring about what they were doing, and then turned to challenge destiny - all before walking off until Olette whined, only leaving her with a “ _I know._ _Tomorrow_.” You watched him leave, before you heard Roxas gasp as he turned back to the tracks, shooting from beside you over to the wooden fence.

“Look!” He said, pointing out into the distance. But nothing came. You only stood there, watching him as he stared out at some invisible thing, intently focused on it until he finally turned back to face all of you. “It’s really true… and there’s really no one aboard-” He said, before looking around at the four of you, “what’s the catch? There’s  _ gotta _ be a catch, right?” And then he started to run off, stopping only to yell back, “let’s go to the station!”

And then he ran off, Pence and Hayner immediately after him. Olette turned to you as you both started walking off. “He’s been like this for the past week,” she said, worry radiating off of her, “I thought that maybe-”  
“I’ll talk to him.” You looked over to her, “alright?”

You didn’t give her a chance to respond before you took off running, your bag thumping against your back with every bouncing step. When you finally arrived at the station, Roxas was just dumbly staring at the empty tracks, before turning to the four of you.

“Let’s go in.”

Hayner caught him by the arm as he took a step forward, cutting off Roxas’s protest. “You’ll get hurt?” 

Roxas turned back. And then it felt like he was on the same wavelength as all of you, turning back to you all with an almost pleading look in his eyes. A train arrived with a screeching halt, and you watched as different people from town flooded out - barely catching a glimpse of Rai and Fuu as they passed by. Roxas looked from the train to all of you, confused and almost desperate for you all to say that you’d seen the ghost train too.

“C’mon,” Hayner said, starting to step past Roxas.

“But-” Roxas started, “a train came from the beach. There was no driver, right?” 

“Let’s go-”

“ _ Right _ ?” Roxas pushed further, almost pleading until Olette shook her head.

You watched as Hayner took Roxas by the shoulders, pushing him onto the town line, frustrated with Roxas’s antics. The rest of you filed onto the train after them, and you settled into the spot next to Roxas. His gaze fell to the floor, the boy now glum from the fact none of you believed him. He looked up to you, about to speak, until you gently set your hand on his arm.

“Hey- Roxas- have you been feeling well lately?”

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

You dodged the question. “C’mon, buddy- I’m worried about you-”

He didn’t talk to you for the rest of the ride back to Twilight Town, a heartbroken look about him. For a moment, you wondered whether you should have humored him and agreed you’d seen it - but… you weren’t about to lie to him, to give him false hope and then have him figure out you’d lied once you couldn’t back him up any further. When the train arrived back in Twilight Town, you followed the group into the station, your grasp around your bag’s straps tight enough to the point where your nails were digging into your palms.

“... Roxas?”

He didn’t answer you.

“I’m gonna go home. Come find me if you need me, okay?”

He didn’t respond.

He didn’t know that would have been the last time he saw you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter is just gonna be roxas - for pretty obvious reasons.
> 
> stupid notes from this chapter:  
> "maybe its destiny  
> maybe its maybelline"
> 
> anyway. after the next chapter, things go back to mc/you and things are gonna start picking up.  
> heck yeah  
> summer is a good time for writing  
> even with my fucked up sleep schedule (which honestly helps since ive been waking up around 3am-ish and falling asleep around 4pm so i get good quiet times for writing)


	9. eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> one story ends.
> 
> it's time for another to begin.

One of the stupidest things Roxas did was run to your house. First his friends didn’t see him - or maybe, they’d never been real the entire time, he wasn’t completely sure yet - and then he was attacked by those _things_ again, and now…. he was _supposed_ to be heading to the mansion.

But instead he ran, footsteps falling heavily against the pavement and filling the air around him. The keyblade weighed heavily in his hands, and he tore through the dusks ahead of him with ease. No one was there. Twilight Town was empty - but there was some stupid, childish hope that _maybe_ things would be different. That _maybe_ his other friend would turn to greet him, lost in her own little world as she read about magic.

He found your house easily, the wooden _welcome_ sign greeting him at the front door. He buzzed endlessly, maybe expecting a disgruntled _you_ or your parents to bark at him, to scold him for disturbing the peace that your family always built up everyday. If he was honest, he _wanted_ that. He wanted you to tear the door open and yell at him, saying that you were _coming_ and that he just needed to be _patient_ for once before breaking that little angry facade with a small smile - because you could never stay angry at Roxas for too long, especially because his presence would break up the monotony of your days.

But nobody came.

The weight of the world settled in. He turned away from your doorstep, knuckles turning white as he gripped his keyblade like a vice, and he took off without another thought. Fighting through Twilight Town was _nothing_ to him. Anger bubbled and boiled over, as he pushed himself through the streets, blade slicing through dusks and creepers and assassins.

How much of this was a lie? The promises of the beach among him and his friends, the Struggle tournament - even you patching him and Hayner up mere _days_ ago. Everything had become a blur, like someone had hacked into him and started weaving his memories. He barely remembered your touch, or the way that Hayner would playfully punch his arm, or how Olette’s laugh sounded - it all felt so _distant_ now, like everything was a million worlds away, or a _dream_ that he kept coming back to night after night.

Maybe it was all a dream, some sort of simulation or utopia where he was _happy_ and he wasn’t so _lonely_. Where he wasn’t as alone as he was right then, making his way through the forest with snarls and cries of enemies around him.

The mansion stood before him. Memories kept flooding back in - not even of himself, but of _Sora_ . That’s all he remembered. All of Sora’s life stood out, bursting at the seams and bleeding into what Roxas had made of his own life. He could remember the burning sun of Agrabah, the cold night air that filled Traverse Town, the way water graced his - _Sora’s_ \- skin in Atlantica.

It wasn’t _his_ life: _he_ wasn’t the one who flew, or blossomed friendships along beloved storybook characters like Winnie the Pooh.

His nails dug into his palm as he stared at the lock, the sound of swirling white figured approaching behind him. He scowled - _of course_ he’d been locked out right after that voice told him to come here. And then he remembered, visions of Sora sealing keyholes washing into his mind, and he threw himself back a step, holding up the blade toward the lock. He squinted his eyes at the white light that began to shine from the tip of the blade as a beam shot out, the lock turning white and disappearing with a chime, and then the gates flew open with a quick creak. Roxas barely had a chance to glance behind him before he took off, the sounds of Dusks growing too close for comfort.

The sound of the gates creaking closed was distant as he opened the door to the mansion, the sight of a near empty room with only broken furniture to fill it greeting him. He bit back the strange nerves that came to life within him, and he travelled onward on his path, things to learn just waiting for him.

When he stepped out of the white room, all he could see was red. And when he went down into the computer room, he let loose. The cacophony of screens cracking and splintering upon impact was the furthest thing from a symphony, but in that moment there was nothing greater than _that_ . Electricity sparked and crackled, smoke erupting from the broken monitors as he continued to swing his keyblade, beating every glowing panel until all that was left were black screens, fractured and sparking. He’d been crying from the sheer exertion, sweat beading at his forehead and breaths labored, the weight of the keyblade feeling as if it increased tenfold.

On the other side of the room, the door slid open with a noise loud enough to ring out above the crackles and against the sound of his breathing. He looked back to the computers, straightening his spine as the keyblade disappeared underneath his grasp. Everything was leading up to this, wasn’t it? Every laugh, every memory, every strip of pain that blasted through every nerve - it was all leading up to him merging back into Sora. Every fight, both armed with blade and words - it was all to be _lost_ in the end.

And then there was Axel - Axel who he _recognized_ completely this time, Axel who was going to _kill him_ if he didn’t fight back, Axel who was his _best friend_ . Axel who dissipated into dark smoke after a promise of meeting in the next life, leaving Roxas with burns along his arms and with singed clothing and an ache in his chest because _just because he had a next life didn’t mean that Axel did too_ . But the strangest feeling washed over him, telling him that they’ll meet again - even if Axel didn’t meet _him_ again. But onward he pressed, through a corridor holding pods with Donald and Goofy, and into another white room with a flower-like pod resting in the middle, closed tightly. _Sora_.

And in front, a stranger - still bandaged in red and golden eye peering at him. The entire time he stood there, this man referring to _Sora_ and acting as if Roxas wasn’t his own person, like Roxas was only a part of Sora. And maybe he was. Roxas wasn’t even sure anymore. He felt things, he had a life, and yet… he was just a part of Sora, wasn’t he? The entire time he stood there, hearing how he was a _tool_ and _half of Sora_ \- someone he should share his hatred with, because Sora was _too nice_ . Maybe that was good. Sora could be nice - Roxas was _bitter_ and _angry_ and that was _good_.

“No!” He had yelled at the projection, “my heart belongs to _me_!” And then his attack, just like every prior one on this projection, sunk through the data, leaving him standing directly in front of the pod.

Then it opened, front blossoming open as if it were an actual flower. And then there was Sora, eyes shut and breathing soft as he levitated in the middle, peaceful in slumber. Roxas stood there as his anger starting to drain from him as he could only _stare_ at Sora. He stood the smallest step forward. A wave of calm crashed over him, starting to pull him under as everything just grew _quiet_ inside of him. Everything he’d been feeling, every bit anger aimed toward everyone who treated this as _necessary_ (and perhaps it really was, Roxas thought) and the sorrow from losing all his friends and his own life, it all melted away. His fate was sealed.

“Sora…” He said, voice quiet as his gaze never left his other. “You’re lucky.” Another step forward. “Looks like my summer vacation… is over.”

Then he was gone, and all fell silent. His story had come to a close at long last, a prologue to another life, another story that’d be intertwined with other stories. Now it was time for another life to resume, for the words to fall back into place and to carry people onward.

It was time for Sora’s story to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for sorta falling off the map for a bit. a lot happened over the past two weeks, all involving medical stuff and life stuff - and to add to it, nothing seemed to flow whenever i tried to write. but i'm hopefully back! im gonna try to crank out another chapter (or two, if im lucky) tonight to make up for my absence! 
> 
> uh what else is there. there's nothing funny in my fic notes, or anything i wanna say about this chapter.  
> i can't remember if i've mentioned it before but regarding literally anything that comes out about kh3: im literally going to disregard it for this fic. i have all the chapters planned out from beginning to end, and it's all sorta plotted in a specific way that also basically involved me sort of ignoring some stuff that surfaced. so if you dont know anything abt kh3 bc u just havent kept up (ur valid, i tend to miss stuff too) or bc you don't want any spoilers whatsoever - good news! you don't have to worry about any of it here! because i also dont know whats going on rn.
> 
> uhhh other than that: im gonna go ahead and warn that things will pick up a lot more around chapter 13, but we gotta get through some set-up first babes. hopefully these next few chapters wont be boring - they're all reader-centric and sorta adding more personality and stuff to reader.
> 
> also featured in this fic: my bitch ass trying to plan out stuff with like... time being an actual element in everything. i am Trying.
> 
> ok!!! off topic from fic so u can ignore this if u want but im gonna throw in some life stuff:  
> \- getting blood drawn SUCKS 0/10 i have a bruise now  
> \- i watched 'the incredibles' for the first time earlier and im mad at myself for missing out on it completely as a kid BUT i watched the incredibles 2 the other day with my brother (yes i saw 2 before i saw the first one, yes im a fool) and i fucking LOVED IT its so good but also fuck every single flashing light sequence  
> \- i got a new phone bc my old one was shit and the speaker finally blew (and then?? came back i think??? but it keeps coming and going and it was about time i got a new phone if im honest)  
> \- im very ready for the new mamma mia! movie  
> \- ive got summer orientation next saturday btw so if i dont. do anything around that time, its bc im in a car/at a hotel/on my college campus. 
> 
> anyway ill shut up now and go back to writing  
> pls review if u want i love u


	10. nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you meet a stranger that's too familiar.
> 
> sadness sets in.

There were things about you that had been the same.

The clinic had never been a lie, nor your fascination with magic, the summer assignment, knowing Hayner and Pence and Olette - all of that was _real_ . You went through your day to day life as you normally did during the end of summer, your days left completely to yourself with the stress of an upcoming school year starting to trickle its way into your system.

You wandered up Main Street, bag bouncing against your back with every step you took, the promise of the town line to take you to Sunset Terrace awaiting you at the top. But during your little journey for a little peace and quiet, three figures came into view - three _strangers_ , from what you could tell, because they all looked too out-of-place and lost to know Twilight Town as well as any native.

A duck, a dog, and a brunette boy in red - the last too familiar for your own comfort. You knew you’d never seen any of them before, but there was just something about the boy that seemed _strange_ . Like you knew him. Something inside of you screamed in recognition, and you suppressed it because it was _silly_ that _you’d_ know them.

The boy turned, looking around idly as his pals observed the job board, and then his gaze met yours for far too long. He studied your face, brows furrowed as he observed your features and searched for _something_ \- and for a moment, you thought he’d recognized you somehow. He didn’t. He only stared, ocean blue eyes peering into you - _ocean blue eyes that were too blue and too familiar and unnerved you in the strangest way_ .

After a few more moments, you finally took off after tearing your gaze away from him, walking up Main Street and past them and onward toward the train station. You had a tram to catch, after all - and boys that are enigmas to you can stay in your thoughts for further pondering at _any_ time. As you approached the top, you stole a glance back and barely caught a glimpse of the three heading off down the alley, towards where Hayner and his friends stayed.

If you were honest, you didn’t have any worries - if they were hostile, Hayner would stand his ground and chase them off (and if that failed, there was always Seifer and his little gang as well), and if they weren’t, Hayner would take to them easily. Hayner always took to people easily. He was the polar opposite of you in that way, happiest when in conversation while you preferred your books.

Your steps slowed as you approached the station, taking a moment to breathe and rest from your little journey up there. As much as you loved Sunset Hill, the entire process leading up to getting there was a _hassle_ \- all the walking, the long tram ride, the walk _across_ Sunset Terrace with the fight against gravity to follow. It was worth it, though. The view alone was worth it, let alone the quiet atmosphere that made it perfect for reading.

You continued into the station, one hand grasping a strap of your bag as you headed in and to wait for the town line - which you constantly _thanked_ for being free, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to go to Sunset Terrace _nearly_ as much as you enjoyed. You caught a glimpse of a strange purple train, detailed in yellow and outfitted with stars everywhere. _Strange_ . You’d never seen it before, nor had you noticed any special train tickets or anything _new_ about the schedule. Dismissing the thoughts, you headed over to wait for the town line to come, the weight of your bag suddenly feeling slightly heavier at the thought of the walk to Sunset Hill.

“[y/n]!”

You’d turned to see Hayner walking up the steps, his friends and those three strangers alongside him. When you thought about it, you _did_ have time to spare - and you were there already, and running to the town line was always an option if things took too long. So you approached the group, about to greet Hayner when he motioned to the other three.  
“Sora, Donald, Goofy. Thought I should introduce you,” he said, before turning back to the group, “this is [y/n]. She’s a good pal of ours. If you can’t find us, you can probably find her and she can help you.”

 _Yeah_ , because you _always_ kept tabs on all of them. You forced a smile anyway, “I tend to have an idea of where this knucklehead is-”

The boy interrupted you, “I saw you earlier, right?” He smiled a little, awkward enough to lessen the blow of talking over you.

You debated denying it for a second. “Yeah - that was me.” Something inside of you stirred awake, his eyes _too familiar_ for some reason. But you still couldn't place it - and if you were honest, you never _could_. You’d never met Sora before. But still, you asked, “have… we met before?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, searching his memory before shrugging with a quick “nope!” He ignored the little pit in his stomach as he said that, because for some reason your face was a little too familiar too. He didn’t know you, but… he felt as if he _should_.

Hayner looked to you for a moment, about to speak before the group dispersed - the duck, Donald, saying something about making sure they’d taken care of all their business before they left. So their little group broke away, going over their contents toward the edge of the platform. Hayner finally spoke, nudging you and drawing your attention away from them, only for you to realize that’s where he’d been looking too. “You too?”

“What-” You started, looking from Sora to Hayner for a moment, before returning your attention back to Sora.

“He’s familiar, right?” Hayner said, arms folded across his chest, “like… I should _know_ him.” He paused, before a smile broke out across his face, “whatever. New friend is a new friend. He seems like a nice guy.”

You looked back to Hayner, “I’m sure.” A pause hung between you, and you felt a small shiver travel down your spine, “things seem… weird.”

“C’mon, it’s just because summer’s almost over!” Hayner elbowed you, “you just don’t wanna go back to school.”

“Neither do you!” You retorted, “Hayner, I know it’s not the fact that summer’s ending. It’s just…” The words were lost on you. “Weird.”

“ _C’mon_ .” Hayner frowned, “you just need to take some time _away_ from all that reading. Spend some time with us or something. Stop burying yourself in _books_ all the time. Come hang out with us tomorrow.”

“What are you planning?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged, “but we’ll find _something_ to do. You’re always stuck in that clinic, you’ve forgotten how to talk to _people_.”

“I talk to _plenty_ of people,” you refuted, “because _plenty_ of people come into the clinic-”

“Yeah, no one _our_ age though! C’mon, [y/n]. Be a teenager. Do stupid stuff with us.”

You frowned, hugging your arms across your chest, “Hayner, my parents won’t-”

“ _[y/n]_ ,” he whined, “ _c’mon_. Hang with us. At least read your books around us or something.”

You opened your mouth to respond, only for the sound of the town line approaching and screeching to a halt to catch your attention. “I’ll think about it,” you said, turning and walking off quickly, leaving Hayner to stand by himself as you stepped aboard and found a seat. _Do stupid stuff with us_ , he says - but could you really afford to just do _stupid teenage_ stuff? With parents like yours? _Stupid teenage stuff_ was what your brother would do sometimes, and he always got in trouble for it for _some_ reason. Your mother was always good at finding reasons.

But at the same time… you _wanted_ that. You wanted to go out with Hayner and Pence and Olette to do stupid teenage stuff, to show up bruised and battered from stupid exploration but _happy_ because you were with people who were probably in the same state you were - or at least could laugh alongside you over the stupid things you’d done. Maybe you’d been missing out.

Maybe you needed to stop the world and finally get on.

-x-

Sora pressed himself into the side of the train car, gaze settled outside the window and confusion ingrained into him. He was no stranger to letting his emotions _exist_ , as he’d never really been someone to just mask his sadness or anger or happiness just because of who he was. But despite all of that, he’d felt no sense of sorrow when he was saying goodbye to Hayner and his friends - he really had no reason to, when he thought about it. Tearful goodbyes had always been more appropriate with people he knew, with people he wouldn’t get to see ever again, and… he _would_ return to Twilight Town sometime, wouldn’t he? Nonetheless, a tear ran down his cheek as he departed from the group, and part of him pushed him to leave a bit faster because he just… didn’t _know_.

He remembered the little decorated drawstring pouch he’d been given by the king, containing the munny for their train tickets and a little blue ball inside of it at the bottom. Sora pulled it from his pocket, stretching the mouth of the bag open and reaching into pull out the glass ball, rolling it between his fingers. He looked up, before finally holding it up to where the sunlight would hit it, sending little fractures of blue light sparkling on the wall and roof as the light passed through and reflected.

“Y’know…” He said, catching his companion’s attention as he drew his hand back, looking the glass ball in his fingers. “I’m sad.”

“We’ll be back!” Donald squaked, now sitting down in the train car.

Goofy nodded almost immediately, “we can see Hayner and those guys again!”

Sora could only muster up a quick nod in response, before slipping the marble back into the bag, the soft _tcht_ catching his attention. He shifted the contents of the bag, prodding around for anything other than munny before managing to hook his finger around something. When he withdrew it, a single strand of beads on an elastic band greeted him, the word **_WINNER_ ** boldly proclaimed across each bead. He could only stare at it, uncertain about why _that_ was there.

Another tear rolled down his cheek. He still didn't know why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sunshine boy has arrived.  
> what a good boy.


	11. ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> something about the ocean is just so calming to you  
> that is, until you get company.

“One student’s, please.”

School had started back shortly after that boy - _Sora_ \- came and went. You conformed to habit again, going through the motions each day and adapting a proper schedule once more, albeit struggling more this time as your workload started to increase. You’d wake up for class in the mornings, spend your day going through every subject and collecting homework, and then you’d go home and focus on that for the next few hours with maybe a break or two sprinkled in there. On some Saturdays, you were at the station bright and early with eight-hundred munny and a ticket to the beach in hand, your bag on your back, and dressed in the most comfortable t-shirt and shorts you could find.

You liked the train station in the morning - it was always a bit quieter, the world starting to wake up to the sunset-bathed Twilight Town as if the sun had just come up. You wondered what sunrise looked like sometimes, as books could never describe the experience or the sight in a way that you could comprehend. And then there were _stars_ \- you wondered what _stars_ looked like, what the night sky looked like, or even what an actual blue sky was like. All you knew was orange, twenty-four-seven. The pictures in your books of a drawn blue sky stretching over the ocean fascinated you - but standing on the beach, the only site that stood before you was the orange and yellow glow glistening off of the waves.

Three Saturdays into the school year and you’d already visited the beach twice now, sand clinging to your sandals now - and you had given up with cleaning them, leaving them strewn beside the front door (and you _knew_ you’d get your mother reprimanding you for it later, no matter how well you cleaned up the mess) - and always ending up in your bag no matter how thoroughly you combed over it.

You tapped your foot along the bottom of the tram, attention caught by the hazy orange sky outside that beat down upon everyone it could find, almost _nervous_ from all of it. You had homework due Monday, including an essay on an easy read that you were lucky enough to have read - which actually made you thank the stars you had a mother who was always pushing classic literature onto you - but there you were: ignoring all of it as you went to the beach again.

For what? You weren’t sure. Something about the blue - or, at least, what you could make out of it against the orange hues that were always there to greet you - reminded you of _something_ . Or maybe, it reminded you of _someone_.

The familiarity of a stranger was always to be found at the beach. But every time you went, there was always a name that hugged at the tip of your tongue, almost _teasing_ you with how close you felt you were to finding it. You kicked off your sandals, leaving your bag next to them as you walked down into the water, the cold water kissing at your ankles as you took slow steps in, kicking up sand as waves crashed against the shore, pulling you with the sway of the ocean.

You shut your eyes, letting the salty breeze brush past you and nothing but the sound of gulls overhead and the calming hush of the waves take you away. For a moment, Twilight Town wasn’t there anymore. You took a few slow steps forward, up until where the water touched just below your knees - any further and your shorts would have gotten wet, honestly. You breathed in the crisp air, just taking in the chill of the water; the warmth of the sun kissing your skin; the breeze which ran its fingers through your hair.

“Hey!”

You didn’t move.

“C’mon - clinic girl-”

For a moment, there was something off. When you finally opened your eyes and turned to find out who’d been yelling at you, Hayner stood there. But for the strangest reason, it didn’t feel like Hayner who’d called out the first time, the voice not as rough around the edges as Hayner’s seemed to be. But you didn’t question it further, walking back up to the shore as Hayner stood there, hands resting at his hips.

“So.” He began, “what’s the big deal? You’ve been weird ever since Sora left.”

You only managed to shrug at that - if you’d been different, you hadn’t really noticed. “Sorry.”

“ _C’mon_ ,” Hayner stressed, “you want a pretzel? I’ll buy.” Before you could protest, or even ask anything, he spoke again, “Pence owed me some money. Now c’mon.”

So you followed Hayner, and after thirty minutes of waiting in line in awkward silence, you were back to where you were before, sitting in the sand - this time featuring a pretzel you didn’t have to pay for. Something about Hayner reminded you of someone, but you never could exactly pinpoint what. But sitting there in the sand with Hayner beside you, knee against your own, you couldn’t shake the strangest feeling that had been plaguing you for a while.

“Ever feel like somethings missing?” You asked, and then took a bite out of your pretzel, eyes never leaving the ocean before you.

Hayner shifted beside you, stretching his legs out, bones popping softly as he did so. “Like what?”

You shrugged, cradling your cheek in your free palm. “I dunno. Like… _someone_ ’s missing from all of this.”

“I mean, don’t you have a brother?” He asked, “maybe you’re missing him.”

“Nah,” you looked back to Hayner, “that’s… something I’ve gotten used to.” Something about that drove a knife through your stomach. That shouldn’t be something you’re used to, right? But you didn’t let it show. “Like… I don’t know. I just… I can’t shake the feeling that someone’s missing, Hayner.”

“Maybe it’s just you. I don’t think anyone’s missing, but-”

“Remember that one day where… I think you’d been working on grandstander?” You shut your eyes for a moment. If you could _just_ remember a face. “There… was a boy, wasn’t there? Some new boy-”

“Look,” Hayner cut you off, “I think I’d remember some new boy if there was one. I don’t remember anyone.”

You sighed, looking back to the ocean, and something sunk in your stomach. When you really thought about it, maybe there was no missing part of this equation. Maybe things were just as they were supposed to be. “Nevermind. Maybe I’m imagining it.”

Hayner didn’t respond.

For the next half hour, you sat next to Hayner and just admired the sun on the sea, the distant line intriguing you. You’d read about other words once, in some book you’d managed to find. Maybe if you took a little boat and just left one day, going as far as you could, you could maybe find a way to another world.  You wondered if that had been what your brother did in the end. Your heart lurched at that thought - you always wanted to know where he went, and maybe if you can figure out how to travel to other worlds, you could finally find him and punch him and yell at him for just abandoning you completely before finally crying into his shoulder because _he’d be there in front of you_.

“Wanna head back?” Hayner said, starting to pull you from your thoughts.

“I’m fine, Hayner,” you answered, almost in a daze as your focus became swallowed by the sea.

He reached out and touched your shoulder, which had been enough to jerk you completely from the trance you started to fall into. “Why do you come out here anyway? You don’t swim or anything. What gives?”

“How do _you_ know I don’t swim?”

He motioned to you, still dressed in a tank top and shorts. “No swimsuit. Plus you were standing out in the ocean like this when I saw you. Anyway, I doubt you come out here for the watermelon,” he continued on, “since it’s too expensive.”

He had a point.

“Your parents are probably getting worried,” he shrugged, “so what gives? Why do you keep coming out here? I thought Sunset Hill was _your_ spot anyway.”

You shrugged,and finished off the last of your pretzel - and you hadn’t realized just how much you’d eaten, actually. Maybe you’d zoned out more than you thought. “It’s just… something.” You started to slip back into your sandals as you stood, bending down to adjust the straps before finally standing completely up, looking out towards the sea.

“Something?” Hayner didn’t move from his spot, one leg pulled up towards him, his arm draped over it as he followed your gaze out towards the ocean. You finally nodded, and he looked up to you, awaiting some sort of clarification.

“Something about it all just feels so… _familiar_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoo BOY its been a bit since i've updated this, hasn't it? little over two weeks, i think!
> 
> but im back, baby. probably. dont quote me on that ever, im the worst at keeping up with stuff. but this? i'll finish it. if i don't, ur all welcome to come punch me.
> 
> anyway uh. what life updates can i throw into these chapter notes.  
> i went to orientation last week. that was cool. i like my college. i like my classes. sorta okay with my roommate but hopefully that'll turn into "i like my roommate"  
> im very sleepy right now because its almost 2:30 but i also wanna keep writing so  
> u can see my predicament
> 
> anyway!!! im gonna try to like. stop dipping out of existence so much sfkjhsd i love u all, thank u for ur support <3


	12. eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you try some things.  
> someone confronts you.  
> you succeed in something.

Another few days passed by before something finally clicked in your head: for all your fascination in it, why don’t you ever try to actually _do_ magic? You’d reread books over and over, reviewed your notes time and time again to figure out _how_ things might work, and you’d daydreamed about the day you’d have ice spill from your fingers just like your brother had. So, that saturday morning after your parents had left for the clinic, you shoved your journal into your bag, brought along some water as a failsafe for any fire that might go astray (and, hopefully, it _wouldn’t_ be big due to your lack of practice with magic), and head out to catch the town line so you could start with this on top of Sunset Hill. You threw your bag onto a bench, sat down, and started going over your notes for the umpteenth time.

Your scribbles filled most of the pages of the journal. _Magic is built up off of emotion at its most basic level_ \- that was something you’d once read and copied down after dumbing it down from rather  elaborate prose. Greater wizards could conjure magic without the need of contacting an emotion, but for most beginners working on their own, it was highly recommended to push their emotions to help unlock the most basic of spells: _fire_ and _blizzard_ . Fire had obvious associations with anger, the sort of fury that made your blood boil with pure, unfiltered _rage_ . Blizzard, on the other hand, tended to be associated with more colder emotions - which could include a building, biting anger that wasn’t as ferocious as fire, but could be just as deadly. You didn’t completely comprehend the difference there, if you were honest - but book after book all said the same thing: _once a spell is cast, magic users become much more familiar with the emotions that can help build each magic_.

Wizards could “pass” spells along, given they were powerful enough. You’d always skipped through that sort of thing, given you weren’t aware of any wizards around Twilight Town. Something about imagination was next - how skilled wizards, when having apprentices, try to explain the physical feeling to help guide their apprentices while they cast spells. From that point on, your notes became much neater, much more formatted - and, honestly, mostly copied word for word from books (including the bits in parenthesis that wouldn’t help you later, as your focus lied on copying information rather than filtering out the unneeded tidbits).

_There are nine well-known types of magic: fire, blizzard, thunder, aero, cure, gravity, stop, and reflect. All of these have the ability to branch further off, depending on the amount of light or darkness in a person’s heart (see “advanced magic” on page 42), and all forms of magic will range from being basic to advanced. There are also forms of magic that will have status effects on enemies: more on these on page 51._

After that, all of your notes were based on those specific spells. You drank in every single word, remembering the afternoons in the library or in your bedroom of copying everything until your hand was cramping.

 ** _Fire:_** _One of the most basic forms of magic, fire (also_ ** _fira_** _, and_ ** _firaga_** _once the spell becomes more powerful) is - as the name states - based around fire and is heavily associated with the ‘_ _blazing’_ _materials (pg.79). Fire is often associated with_ _quick bursts of anger or frustration_ _, and is often the first kind of magic that a beginner will pick up. Fire is reported to have “burning” feelings in a user’s nerves - however, no such burning occurs unless the spell itself backfires._ _  
_ _When conjured: fire will often form as a ball being shot out of a wand/blade/hand/ect._

 _  
_ **_Blizzard:_** _The other most basic form of magic, blizzard (_ ** _blizzara_** _and_ ** _blizzaga_** _) is formed around_ _ice and frost_ _materials. While fire is associated with quick anger, blizzard is often associated with both_ _slow-building anger_ _or with_ _cold, bluntly fueled anger_ _. Blizzard_ _often makes blood feel icy and cold_ _, and fingers may possibly feel as if they are going numb upon being casted: but no worry - this is another feeling that occurs with no actual occurrence._ _  
_ _Often appears as a shard of ice or a shot of icy-blue frost upon conjuring._

 _  
_ **_Thunder_** _: Thunder (_ ** _thundara, thundaga_** _) is a slightly more complicated element to learn due to the control that it requires at times. Formed around_ _electricity and lightning materials_ _, thunder tends to be a hotter element often_ _not associated with emotion_ _, but with the concept of hairs sticking on end and electricity running through blood. Upon conjuring, thunder will often leave a static-like feeling on skin - of both the caster and of allies and enemies around._ _  
_ _Often will appear in a strong, single bolt that expands outward, or in a rain of slightly weaker bolts that rain around the user._

 _  
_ **_Aero_** _: Unlike fire, blizzard, and thunder, aero (_ ** _aerora, aeroga_** _) is a defensive magic often used to help simply shield the user. Aero is a simple spell to cast and is often one of the absolute basic defense spells taught. To cast, the conjurer can either_ _focus on protection_ _(not reflection, mind you)_ _or on feeling winds surrounding them_ _. No emotion is associated with aero. As it sounds: air is the element of aero, and_ _spirit and gust_ _materials are associated. Users can feel wind on their skin, but will ultimately be unaffected._ _  
_ _Often appears in a white, whispy whirlwind around the user._

 _  
_ **_Cure_** _: Often used by wizards to heal (along with its stronger versions,_ ** _cura_** _and_ ** _curaga_** _), cure utilizes the power of healing and is associated with_ _bright and shining_ _materials. Often focus will be required to properly cast cure (and will definitely be required for the first conjurations of its stronger forms), making cure unsafe to perform during busy battles. Cure is often associated with the feeling itself of healing:_ _patient, focused,_ _and will_ _often make the user feel slightly cold_ _, which is strange due to the appearance of nature when the spell is cast._

 _  
_ _When cast, flowers may appear overhead for a quick moment, and flower petals tend to blow away as wounds heal._ _  
_ **_Gravity:_** _An advanced form of magic that is hard to control, gravity (_ ** _gravira, graviga_** _) utilizes the “power of stars” and is associated with_ _lucid_ _material. Often times, gravity is not commonly used due to the advanced nature of it and the materials required will end up being used in synthesizing strong healing items. Gravity pulls an enemy to the ground, harming them and temporarily rendering them defenseless as the force is too strong. Once quoted to make the user feel “slightly lighter” upon being cast._ _  
_ _A visual forcefield is seen surrounding enemies._

 _  
_ **_Stop:_** _An advanced form of magic, stop (_ ** _stopra, stopga_** _) utilizes the stopping of time and_ _has no materials associated_ _with it. There is no definite way of calculating the amount of time that time will stop around the user, but it has been_ _believed to be associated with how strong a user is_ _. The stronger the user, the longer time can freeze before resuming. A chill often rushes over users for a select moment, and stop often drains the energy of the user._ _  
_ _Although rare to see, spectators have stated that a certain ‘clock-like’ image will surround user as things freeze to a halt._ _  
_ **_Magnet_** _: A magic almost always used in combat alone, magnet (_ ** _magnera, magnega_** _) draws enemies inward while doing damage to them._ _The stronger the user, the stronger the force_. _Rarely used and seen._

 _Often involves a sort of “orb” that pulls enemies inward. Seems to be able to sense darkness._ _  
_ **_Reflect_** _: Reflect (_ ** _reflera, reflega_** _) - or alternately, ‘barrier’ by some users in certain worlds - is a magic that primarily defensive while it can also damage enemies if successfully absorbing blows. Reflect is_ _often used in place of aero_ _once learned, as it is reported to have “more payoff” compared to the basic magic._ _  
_ _A shield of light often surrounds the caster, and it will shine and release light as it dispurses and harms enemies._

  
And then your notes ended, aside from mindless scribbling underneath about finding a tutor or finding a way to learn. You settled on learning blizzard first, purely because of the experience your brother had with it. Maybe his skills would have rubbed off on you or something. Besides - blizzard seemed safer to work with, as you weren’t angry enough to even consider conjuring fire, and frost was something less damaging to the ground around you.

So you slid forward to the edge of your seat, and held your hand up slightly as you started to shut your eyes and dedicate your focus to the feeling of frost, to the image of ice coating your fingers. For what was meant to only be a split second, you remembered your brother. And then you were thrown back into your memories. You remembered sitting in the backyard beside your brother, watching him intently with furrowed brow and attention focused on his fingers - because maybe you’d see the frost grow and you could tell him if it was working - as he tried to dedicate everything he had to casting the weakest form of blizzard that he could.

You remembered the summer heat of the late afternoon beating down on the two of you, sun kissing your skin, condensation growing on the two glasses of water that sat nearby. You remembered the brightness in your brother’s eyes as he looked to you, yelling about how _he felt the numbness_ that would have come even if there was no magic to show. You remembered seeing the water inside the glass start to freeze over as your brother held the glass in his hands, talking to you idly about what the magic was like. And then you remembered darting away from him the moment his cold touch grazed your arm, his laugh as he jumped up after you with frosted fingers. The smallest little pit of melancholic laid in your chest for a moment.

Maybe, if you found him, you could get him back for all those times.

You snapped out of your thoughts, feeling still completely in your fingers. After a moment of staring at them idly, you stretch them and hold up your hand again, shutting your eyes to block out any visual distractions that could come. That’s when you started to focus completely, shutting out all thoughts of your brother and summer days and childish chases. You were greeted with a moment of burning that overtook your fingers, blood feeling as if it were crystalized into ice, and a chill ran down your spine as you let out the softest, shuddery breath. Twilight Town was always warm. So why were your fingers starting to go numb-

Then you felt it. The feeling of something trying to pull itself from you, as if something had been caged inside your chest and maybe now it’s salvation had come to free it. Your hand was shaking, your body felt like it was starting to freeze, but you didn’t care. You _felt_ the rise of frost, your fingers trembling and they felt too stiff for you to move. And all within a second, it went out. The magic died down, and you opened your eyes to be greeted with the sight of your hands, your arms, your body - all completely normal. The temptation to pass it all off as simple imagination started to arise before you dismissed it - you wouldn’t have felt _all_ of that, would you?

So you tried again. And again, and again; the outcome always the same. The cold tightness drawing itself within your chest, the surge of power racing through your veins. You grew frustrated, shutting your journal and standing to stretch, leaning against the wooden fence. To add to it, you could hear footsteps approach, heavily thumping against the ground. You stole a glance over your shoulder, only to be greeted with the familiar face of Seifer. His gaze met yours and he only shot you a smile, hands shoved into his pockets, and he strolled over towards you.

“What are _you_ doing up here?” He said, smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

Before you even consider answering, you lunged out, snatching your journal up. He took in the moment, before frowning. You reached for your bag slowly, only for him to shift his weight to his other leg, watching you in silence. Then he took a step over towards you.

“Like that’s not suspicious.”

You fumbled with the clasp on your bag. “I’m not doing anything, Seifer. I need to go-”

“ _C’mon_.” He stared you down, his gaze cold. “I’m not gonna do anything. Spill.”

The thought of Seifer was something that unnerved you. Although his statement calmed you, the idea that he could always _laugh_ you off as some wizard wannabe sent a spike of fear through you, even if the temptation that _maybe_ he could actually help you laid at the bottom of all of this. So you licked your lips, and spoke a single word: “Magic.”

He was taken aback by the sudden response. “Magic?” He parroted back. You didn’t move. He shrugged, “okay.”

“Okay?” You asked, “after all of that - _that’s_ what you’re gonna say?”

“Geez. Stop making a big deal out of it, lots of people study magic-”

You grew slightly frustrated, “ _not my parents_ .” You pressed your lips together, throwing your bag back down onto the bench, gaze resting there. “They _hate_ magic. They want me to take over the business, to help take care of people the _old-fashioned way_ with medicines and bandages and needles-”

“And you don’t want that, do you?”

“Nope.” You beamed as you looked back to him, “the minute I can get out of here, Seifer, I’m _going_ . I want adventure. _Anywhere_ other than boring little Twilight Town.”

He threw his head back and laughed at you. You balled your firsts, nails pressing into your skin as you immediately grew defensive. You spilled your dreams to him, and _this_ was how he decided to react?

“Shut up!” You spat, “haven’t you noticed how _quiet_ it is around here? In other worlds, there’s-”

“How are you going to get there?” He crossed his arms, smirk still plastered onto his _stupid_ face.

You hadn’t thought of that. You’d read something about maybe getting to other worlds by the ocean. “I don’t -” You paused, “I’ll get a boat or something and just… _go_.”

He chuckled. “Better carry some coconuts or something. Make a plan first, [y/n] - then worry about those _adventures_.”

You snatched up your bag, shoving your journal in it and leaving as he laughed you off once more. If he wasn’t going to at least respect your dreams, then you’d come back another time - when he wasn’t there to treat you like a _child_ , like you didn’t know what you were doing. Maybe you didn’t - but that was part of the adventure, in the end. Besides… who _did_ know what they were doing?

With a scowl at the thought of Seifer’s words, you returned home for the day to a quiet afternoon and an even quieter dinner. Something about the little glances that your father kept stealing towards you set you on edge, and the fact your mother kept her lips pressed tightly whenever you went to speak only twisted your stomach further. The worst immediately came to mind: did they know?

Were you going to wake to a scene of fire and fury as your parents ripped through your notes, burned all of your hard work, and brought agony down upon you with the end-all of rants? Your stomach dropped at the thought, and your appetite vanished as you excused yourself from the table for the night, wishing them goodnight as you took care of the remainder of your plate before making your way to your room.

Despite all the anxieties that burned within you, you woke up early the next morning and left again, retracing every step until you found yourself back on Sunset Hill. You had set out to conjure _something_ \- whether it be ice or fire, you didn’t care anymore. The fact that it had built within you, that you’d _nearly_ been able to pull magic into reality, was enough to set you forward. You threw your bag onto the bench, same as you did yesterday, and you set on to focus and do _something_.

But you didn’t. You didn’t focus on magic - because you _couldn’t_ . What Seifer had said began to resurface - how he _taunted_ you for daring to dream, for not having a plan figured out right then and there. You’d get to another world - you were damn sure of that - one way or another, and you had other things to worry about. Your education stretched before you, the fact you didn’t have _munny_ was a constant reminder of how you were stuck here, and with people like _Seifer_ , the thought that you were stuck only frustrated you _more_ .

His sneer at the word _adventures_ made your blood boil. Who was he to judge? Plenty of people had adventures, because life in itself was one big adventure! You couldn’t plan for everything! If he thought you could get through everything with a well-crafted plan, he was _wrong_ and you wanted to tell him that. The fact that you couldn’t rewind time to refute his stupid ideas only angered you - because that’s when all responses came - and you stared down at the railroad tracks.

You could get on a train and go. You could take a boat. Maybe a wizard could come teleport you away. You had _ideas_ . And if Seifer couldn’t accept that you at least had ideas - then so be it. Sometimes you wished you could knock that smirk off his _stupid_ face and give him the rant that he deserved for being such a pompous-

You nearly slammed your hand down onto the wooden fence at the burning sensation that made its way through. You winced at the sudden heat boiling within you, skin feeling as if it were burning when you threw your hand forward with the intent of meeting wood, only for a flash of orange-y light to expel before you could do anything. All you could do was stare, watching the smallest little ball of flame flicker out in the distance, having not made it very far at all. All of a sudden you were winded, exhaustion flowing through you as you stumbled forward, hitting the fence as your knees gave out underneath you.

You just did that. _You just did that -_ you _made fire_ ! You let out a laugh, running a hand through your hair as you stared at where that fireball had just extinguished. And then you realized _wait, you just made fire -_ and you stumbled back in disbelief because _you just made fire_ and you were _close_ to burning down a fence and maybe more. As you stumbled backwards, your feet slipped from underneath you, and a small, dusty cloud of red blew up around you. Slowly, you brought up your right hand, staring at it - dust and little pebbles pressed into your skin - and you couldn’t fight back a smile.

You just did magic. And it _definitely_ wasn’t going to be the last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, it's been a while, huh?  
> and by 'a while' - almost a damn month! god, am i sorry for that  
> i promise i'll try to make it up though  
> probably not over the next few days since ya girl is packing for college and moving into her dorm on monday - but i'll make it up to y'all  
> thank you so much for your patience with this chapter! i've literally been frustrated about writing for the past month since nothing's been coming easy haha  
> next chapter we start Really getting into the story, i promise ;)


	13. twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the gears turn.  
> the story starts.

For several weeks, you kept at the whole secret magic practice at Sunset Hill. Luckily for you, no one had questioned it. Considering how you spent plenty of time there, they had no reason to. They didn’t have any reason to suspect that you, the humble _clinic girl_ who was good at math and kept to herself in the back of the classroom, were off practicing magic against your parents’ wishes. The rebellious act filled you with _joy_ \- for _this_ had been your way of breaking out of the meek ‘good girl’ image your parents wanted you to keep.

You were breaking their rules, and nothing filled you with more glee than that simple fact - or, well, perhaps the fact you were _actually doing magic_ did. Fire came easy to you, dancing on your fingertips and flickering into existence and extinguishing out just as easily.  Blizzard, on the other hand, was… harder to work with. The most you’d managed to do was freeze a little patch of grass, which you immediately sort of burned afterward in an attempt to just defrost it to remove any evidence of magic.

But that was all you’d done _so far_ . You had the intention of mastering blizzard too - and once you left your school bag at home, you’d turn tail and make your way out to Sunset Hill to resume your training. That is, if your parents were still at the clinic. Your mother had pulled you aside that morning to tell you that the three of you would be going out to dinner to celebrate some news, which you were completely unaware of _what_ news, and that they’d close the clinic up early in order to get ready.

So you slunk home, praying that maybe you could get in a little training at Sunset Hill before dinner, and you kept your attention on the steady thump of your bag against your back with every step you took. The weirdest sense of fatigue started to suddenly set into your bones, and you were doubting your plans to train. Maybe you could use a day off. Maybe all this constant magic use was getting to you. Was it possible to have some sort of ‘magic burn-out’? You’d have to look it up later and see if maybe you skimmed over something like that.

Either way - all of that could wait a day. The idea of honing your skills became distant as you neared your home, and the simple thought of a nap sounded _perfect_. Reaching into your pocket, you fished out your house key and let yourself in, turning the knob and silently shutting the door behind you before locking it.

Your mother’s bag sat on the floor, along with your father’s shoes - discarded at the little step down in the entryway, strewn slightly in the direction of the living room. Your nap would have to wait, then. Clutching the straps of your bag, you stepped forward, walking through your house only to find that it was completely empty. There’d been a glass of lemonade sitting on a coaster, condensation dripping and - upon taking a quick sip - you discovered how watered down it’d been, only slivers of ice cubes remaining. So you decided to backtrack, head back to the front door in case there’d been some note you missed with an explanation of some emergency, or maybe a trip to the store, left somewhere.

But there’d been nothing. Your father’s keys were sitting on the table by the entryway, and upon entering their room, you’d found your mother’s scrubs thrown carelessly onto the bed - but still no signs of life. The worst started to surface, and you dove for your own room, throwing the door open only to find that it, too, was completely empty but… not how you left it.

While you’d never been the neatest person, you at least had some order to your room and kept it tidy enough that your parents were satisfied. Drawers had been pulled, clothes strewn around the room carelessly; one of your wooden bed posts broken, splintering wood standing proud while the other piece sat on the floor; and your window left cracked, the warm breeze filtering into the room when you _knew_ you left your window closed, because you _always_ did when you weren’t home. Panic started to set in as you turned tail and ran to your brother’s room, praying that _maybe_ there’d be some explanation somewhere. That maybe someone had just broken in - despite the fact that only your room had been in disrepair so far - and left when they didn’t find anything valuable enough.

Your brother’s room was the same as usual: simple, clean, and undisturbed. Pressing your lips together tightly, you took a shaky step into his room, fingers curled around your bag’s straps and digging into your palm. His cologne sat on the corner of his nightstand, nearly empty - and in a small moment of desperation, you sat down and popped off the cap before taking a deep whiff of the cheap fragrance. It wasn’t the best smelling stuff in the world, and you’d told your brother that countless times, but it’d been enough to calm you momentarily. With a heavy breath, you tucked the bottle into your bag impulsively before finding one of his bracelets tucked in the back of his nightstand drawer. What’d kept you from taking it? You weren’t sure, but you tugged it over your hand and onto your wrist, the little round beads clacking together in the process.

You stood, barely taking a step before a shiver ran down your spine. You could practically feel eyes bearing into your back. Everything around you fell silent: the sound of the door clicking shut behind you echoing around the empty home, your footsteps like thunder as you find your way outside again, another chill shaking its way through you. You were being watched. Or, at least, you _felt_ like it - you weren’t entirely sure, because even though you didn’t see anyone, the feeling of a cold stare was enough to shake you.

The moment you met concrete, you felt as if someone tore you back onto the sidewalk, throwing you back despite the fact you’d be completely alone in that moment. A scream barely tore from your throat, only to fall silent as you felt nothing but cold. Not the icy cold you’d read about happening in winter, or any sort of freezer-cold: _numbness_. Even if you had moved your hands, popped your fingers, reached out: you wouldn’t have been able to tell.

Then, all in that moment of you being thrown back and numbness taking hold, you were lost. Darkness flooded your vision, everything falling into a terrible, ringing silence. Your chest felt compressed, as if you weren’t breathing when you _knew that you were_ _,_ _because you were still alive and you could see the rise and fall of your chest when you stole a glance down to see if you were still there_ \- but even if you said anything or cried or screamed, you’d never know.  For a single moment in time, you’re completely lost.

Then there was light, shining and blinding you momentarily as you think you feel your body hit the ground. When you make any sort of movement to get up, the numbness never left, only for the sky to leave your vision as you tumbled forward, meeting the ground once more.

-x-

When you woke up, you were greeted with the sight of a wooden ceiling, beams stretching up and supporting the house. While vaguely numb now, as you started slowly regaining feeling in your limbs, you could still tell that you were constricted by a blanket. With labored breath, you forced yourself to look around, trying to find out anything else you could about this place. A fireplace crackled nearby, heat flooding through the room and chasing away the chill you’d been feeling; and you could make out a vague shape across the room, the sound of typing giving away that it had been some sort of computer. Where exactly _were_ you? And… there was a feeling sort of idly lingering in the air. Magic? Could wizards sense magic? Could _you_ sense magic because of that? You weren’t sure, because-

Everything hit you at once. Pain ripped through you, lungs screaming as you took deep, heavy breaths in an attempt to maybe soothe them or at least quiet the pain a bit. Feeling was back completely in your fingers, the threads of the sheet underneath you being all you could really feel, and if you moved your wrists - you could _slightly_ feel fabric underneath them. You shut your eyes, and all in that moment, you hear people talking - as if you became slightly tuned to their voice within that minute.

“... some of the townspeople saw something close up behind her,” one person said. “But-” They paused, and you wondered if they’d just been thinking or stealing a glance at someone (or _you_ , maybe), but they resumed, “it’s strange…”

Another spoke up, voice much older and deeper than the first, “maybe… she’s never been exposed to darkness like that. M-”

The name fell deaf onto your ears, as you wrinkle your brow, pain spiking through your limbs. “Perhaps someone cast sleep on her. Someone _inexperienced_ ,” you could feel another chill shiver down your spine. “Because, surely, even a novice could muster up a little nap! This…” You felt as if something prodded into your entire _being_ , reading over you. “She’s recovering.”

“Will she be awake soon?” Someone else said, voice softer in tone. A woman? You weren’t entirely sure.

“Should be,” the deep-voiced man had said. “Cure’s been working on her.”

“Leon,” the first spoke again, slightly whining, “c’mon - we’ve got other things to worry about! Why’d she fall through a Corridor of Darkness?”

“We’ll have to get in contact with So-”

Then you lost consciousness, right at the worst moment possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i literally have to be at my campus's tour in less than 20 minutes but i finished this and im gonna maybe try to get started on 13 when i get back since i'll have a lot of free time BUT  
> here u go!!! its not as long as i would want but also i can't really do more with this chapter rn!
> 
> thank u i would talk more but i gotta go so  
> love u all, thank u for all the kudos and reviews!!!


	14. thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you awaken. you meet some new faces. you find some form of home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry for completely disappearing holy fuck ill explain shit at the end of this chapter

_The sound of the bedroom door creaking open caught your attention, your little leather-bound notebook resting in your lap with pale blue lamp-light cascading over the pages. Your brother walked in, frustrated with the lovely amount of teen angst and anger that everyone dealt with at one point or another, and held back slamming the door behind him. He walked over, throwing himself onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling as anger etched itself into his features. He finally looked over to you, blue eyes peering at you through the pale light as he pressed his lips together. Hesitant, you finally closed the book in your lap and crawled onto his bed, sitting criss-cross as you faced him, thumb tracing along the seam of the journal._

_He didn't speak at first, so you took initiative. "Are they mad?"_

_"Yeah," he scowled, "of_ **_course_ ** _they're mad."_

_"I'm sorry," you said, "I didn't mean to-"_

_He turned over onto his stomach, looking up at you now. "It's not your fault, [y/n]."_

_Something about the use of your name made your stomach drop. He never really used your name, did he? "C'mon, chief," you sort of made the attempt to make him smile, "maybe tomorrow we can go to the beach-"_

_"I have to work tomorrow. Sorry, ace."_

_You frowned, staring at him. "Oh… but it's your birthday-"_

_He blinked at you. Realization struck and he grinned at you, shifting so he could be sitting up, "yeah! C'mon, who cares about work then? We'll go to the beach tomorrow."_

_Concern bubbled up. "But, wait - won't mom be mad?"_

_His grin never fell, "yeah! But… you only turn eighteen once. They can deal with it."_

_"Alright."_

_"Tomorrow morning. We'll catch the earliest train so mom and dad won't know, okay?" He sorta laughed, "thanks, ace."_

_You returned a smile before it slowly started to fall, a problem brewing in the back of your mind. "But… wait, M-"_

-x-

When you finally woke up, you could feel again. Every strained muscle, every ache that pulsed throughout your body, every drum-like pounding of your head: it all came crashing onto you. As you pushed yourself forward, you could feel gravity, heavy as an anchor, fighting against your tired form - and just as you finally managed to sit forward, you were thrown into a coughing fit. Your stomach cramped, the aridity of your throat rivaled a desert. Behind the cacophony of your coughs, the scrape of a chair fell as background noise, along with a gasp before you were greeted with a woman with brown hair and green eyes. Her fingers grazed your cheek, causing a small chill to flood over you, and for a moment you stopped coughing long enough for her to tear away from you, turning to whoever else was in the room.

“She’s awake!” She cried out, voice gentle despite the volume. Maybe that's just how she sounded? You weren’t entirely sure. She turned back to you after a moment, gently pushing you back onto the bed by the shoulders. You feel the bed shift under her weight as she sat next to you, slipping her hand into yours and shutting her eyes. The slight chill returned, only for it to be replaced by a wave of warmth. And for a second, a mere _moment_ , you swore you saw a slight glow and what looked like flower petals blowing past. Everything dulled: your muscles ache became much duller, while still present; the headache retreated into, much like the rest of the pain, a dull drone that relocated itself at the back of your skull; and whatever had been plaguing your lungs evaporated into nothing, even if your throat remained somewhat dry.

“Are you okay?!” Another girl said, springing to the foot of your bed. She beamed at you, hands resting at her hips as she leaned forward, “you took some _preeeetty_ bad damage on your trip!” She sort of giggled, “but really - are you okay?”

You mustered up a weak nod, and this woman that’d been healing you (or, at least, you _assumed_ that’s what she’d been doing, since you couldn’t think of any alternatives) reached up, brushing hair out of your eyes. _Like a mother_ , a little voice in the back of your head tacked on.

“Can you talk?” She asked again, now gripping the wooden end of the bed, “did you make that corridor appear?” She lowered her voice _slightly_ , “are you _human_?”

“Yuffie, I don’t think-”

A puff of smoke cut the conversation off, redirecting all attention from you to the figure that had appeared at the other end of the room. Out of the smoke walked an old man, his beard long and dragging along the floor as he strode over to the three of you. He adjusted his glasses, before his eyes widened at the sight of you awake, and he smiled before glancing over to the girl at the end of your bed - _Yuffie_ , as you’d just discovered.

“Oh, goodness - Yuffie, don’t overwhelm the poor girl!” He said, “she’s been out for a few days, she’s probably terrified.”

Yuffie let go of the end of the bed, taking a cautious step back, looking back to you. “Sorry!”

“Yuffie,” the woman said, “you could go get some food?” She gently squeezed your hand, “for her,” she looked down to you, eyes soft and giving you a small smile.

You watched Yuffie’s face light up, as she nodded. “Yeah! I’ll do that!” She turned, dashing out of the house, the door slamming behind her.  You watched the older man reach up, adjusting his glasses once more after shaking his head, and then stepping closer to the foot of the bed.

“Can you speak?” He asked. You nodded slowly. “Can you tell us your name?”

“[y/n],” you said, voice raspy. You winced at the sound. Mustering up whatever you could, you settled on swallowing saliva in the hopes of helping your throat.

He nodded, “[y/n].” He paused, studying your face. “Where did you come from, [y/n]?”

You caught a glimpse of your brother’s bracelet, still on your wrist. It gave you the smallest dot of confidence. “Twilight Town - I… think I’m in another world?” You pressed your lips together, “right?”

You watched as his eyes lit up slightly, and he nodded. “Indeed! But, dear, _how_ did you get here?”

You only shrugged.

He pursed his lips. You remembered the vague mention of a corridor. “Did you experience any sort of… intense anger, or-”

You shook your head.

“... Strange. Is there anything wrong, still? Aerith’s _very_ skilled with curaga, but there are some things that magic can’t heal.”

“I’m… hungry - but... that girl - Yuffie? - went to get food, so…” You shrugged, “that’s about it.”

Studying this man’s features, you realized just how familiar he’d been. Then, all in a moment, it clicked: you’d seen him numerous times in your books, all speaking of great wizards. You remembered one - _Yen Sid_ \- and then… there was this guy. You pressed your lips together, before finally speaking again.

“Merlin?” You asked, and he beamed at the sound of his name.

“Yes?” He paused, before realizing he’d never introduced himself, had he? “Oh! A fan! Tell me, are you a student? Someone’s apprentice? I wasn’t aware of any wizards in Twilight Town-”

You interrupted him before he could finish whatever thought he’d had. “I’m… self-taught,” you said, slipping your hand from Aerith’s and letting it fall into your lap.

“Fascinating!” He stared at you, before frowning slightly at your lack of movement. “Now, come on, show me what you’ve learned!”

When you didn't speak, Aerith looked from you to Merlin. "She just woke up - I… I don't think it'd be a good idea for her to do magic-"

He raised his brows at the thought, before nodding and scuttling away from you, muttering the entire way that _yes, perhaps so,_ and you only shot a small smile towards Aerith in thanks.

Within the next half hour, Yuffie had returned with a decent meal for you and with more names for you to remember. A man - _Cid_ , you'd discovered - had returned right as Yuffie had, a toothpick jutting out from his lips and the strong smell of smoke that clung to him spelled out the habit of chewing on the piece of wood was probably some form of smoking cessation. When you asked how you got here, Yuffie was glad to tell you that some other guy, _Leon_ , had carried you in there. Gnawing on the dry bread that Yuffie brought you (under the guise she didn't want to bring _too much_ in case you got sick in the end) you picked up on a single name dropped across the room.

"Sora?" You said, loud enough that Merlin turned to face you the moment you spoke. The group exchanged looks, before looking back to you.

Yuffie stepped slightly closer to the bed, sort of awkwardly bending over to be at eye level with you without a second thought, "wait - you know Sora?"

You nodded, leaning back slightly to give some sort of space between you and her. "Yeah. Yeah - I… met Sora-" You paused, racking your brain for _a time, a day, anything_ , "a… month ago?" You paused once more. Does time pass the same everywhere? You weren't sure. "He… showed up in Twilight Town one day, and I met him and his friends - Donald and Goofy - before… he was gone." You ending up punctuating the sentence with a bite of bread, chewing slowly as a memory started returning to you.

Your stomach dropped. _Your parents_.

Involuntarily, your fingers loosened and the bread fell into your lap. " _Wait, wait_ -" You started, "my parents - they were gone-" Panic started seeping in as you remembered more and more. They were gone, there was that weird darkness, the coldness - it all rang back into your memory, clear as day. "They're missing and - and I have to- I have to find them-" You started to get up, only for Aerith's hands to immediately fly back to your shoulders, pushing you back down onto the bed gently.

She waited a moment as you caught your breath before speaking. "Please don't worry - We'll figure things out," she said, "Sora can travel between worlds. I'm sure he can take you back to Twilight Town." Nodding, you started to regulate your breathing enough to calm yourself.

And, of course, right as you managed to calm yourself, Merlin spoke up - _of course_ you couldn't stay there. The moment he asked if anyone else had somewhere for you to stay, Yuffie beamed and said you were _absolutely welcome_ to come stay with her and Squall - _Leon_ , she cleared up your confusion barely a half-second later - and said that she'd show you around Hollow Bastion. The moment you were standing on shaky legs, Yuffie immediately took you by the hand and guided you around - and almost _immediately_ you learned how skilled of a fighter Yuffie was. You'd never seen the inky-black creatures that rose up out of the ground, peering at you curiously with glowing yellow eyes before being slashed away by Yuffie barely seconds later. _Heartless_ , Yuffie had told you. Were there Heartless in Twilight Town? Had you just never seen them? You weren't sure.

The sun began to set and soon darkness fell, stars blinking in the sky up above. And the entire time, you stood there just _gazing_ at the sky with Yuffie lingering by your side. You'd read countless books detailing this idea of "night" that happened in other worlds - and now… _now_ you were standing under the stars, blinking in the starlight as Yuffie watched the complete awe that stretched across your face, the way you lit up and started smiling as the natural world she knew thrilled you.

"Have you really _never_ seen stars before?" She sort of laughed. You nodded slowly. "Woah, really?"

"Yeah," you said, attention never leaving the sky, "never."

"C'mon. You can go stargazing another time. Let's go home," she said, guiding you to your temporary home - soon to be just the couch in this little house that Yuffie and Leon temporarily took up residence in.

As you started to fall asleep, warmth bubbled up in your chest. So this was your home - at least until Sora could take you back to Twilight Town. And the last thing you thought before finally drifting off was whether your brother had the chance to see stars too.

Maybe one day you could ask him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay first off:  
> i am so sorry this took forever and its not even that much like its barely over 2k and i wanted to release a rly nice long chapter to make up for my absence but i couldnt figure out how much more i could pull from my chapter notes here but i promise im gonna try to work on this fic a bit more bc i have so many plans for it sfjkhds
> 
> second:  
> ive been super busy with balancing my college classes + with work study + with costuming for this show for the past few weeks, plus putting up w my roommate (who's actually moving out soon, thank fuck, she's hell and im not gonna expand too much more bc its not worth it man) so ive had a rough time writing in general, not to even mention writers block kicking my ass. its not really an excuse since ive had times here and there but these are my reasons for not updating at least? pls forgive me aaa
> 
> anyway!
> 
> wow small mention towards readers brother. gonna go ahead and throw out here now that im completely disregarding all kh3-related stuff since i had this fic planned out before a lot of kh3 stuff started coming to surface. but god man i am SO READY for 100 acre woods in this next game, bc its always one of my favorite worlds and it always makes me so so happy and like... depression, what depression??? 
> 
> other than that, i know that cid's toothpick shit is because we cant have cigarettes in these games but................... im literally holding back on swearing but ill 100% put in cigarettes n stuff there.  
> smoking is bad for u tho dont do it 0/10
> 
> anyway pls leave reviews if u want sdfkjhds even if its just a keysmash it'll remind me that people have been actually following this fic and that i need to actually write it instead of bein a lil bitch
> 
> (but also thank u for patience i love u all and i promise im gonna try to make all of these chapters longer if/when i can)


	15. fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you see a familiar face. and you learn some things.

The moment Merlin poofed into the living room to tell you that Sora had returned, you were on your feet and out the door. It'd been a couple of days since you arrived in Hollow Bastion, but you already knew the town pretty well - especially due to how close everything seemed to be. Just a dash down the street, a burst of fire at a heartless, and you were already extremely close to Merlin's house. Pulling the door open, you walked in to find Donald and Goofy standing inside with an open book propped up near where Cid usually worked. They'd been invested in their own conversation when you stepped inside, looking up at your sudden appearance before Merlin poofed in right behind them - causing the duck to let out a shriek and his companion to jump back in surprise. You couldn't help but crack a smile as you heard Donald immediately start ranting for a moment before Merlin calmed him.

Goofy looked from you to Donald, before turning his attention back to you. "Well gawrsh - you're familiar!"

As you approached the group, Donald turned his attention to you, glaring for a moment before widening his eyes. "Hey - it's _you_!"

Something told you they didn't remember your name. Fair enough, honestly - you'd barely talked to them for a minute before they were gone. When you went to introduce yourself again, a shimmer of light cut you off, accompanied by the sound of pages fluttering behind him as the _thump_ of a book shutting caught your attention.

"Couldn't be bothered to wait up for an old wizard, eh?" Merlin said, turning to face who you could only assume was Sora.

"Sorry about that…"

"How are things in there?" Merlin asked, as Sora began to approach the little group that had formed within the room - already talking about how someone named Pooh had forgotten about him and all of his friends. Merlin frowned, going into detail about how the Heartless must have something to do with it due to the pages they stole - leaving you completely in the dark the entire time.

Sora stood there, staring at you while Merlin continued on. Finally, he spoke, recognition finally striking, "hey - It's you! How did you get here?" You sort of shrugged in response.

Merlin turned back to face you all, having finished inspecting the book. "We were actually hoping to talk to you about that, Sora," he said, "we were hoping you could return her to her world."

"Ya mean Twilight Town?" Goofy said, exchanging nervous looks with Donald and Sora. An awkward pause filled the air. Your stomach began to churn as your mind ran amuck with disasters that could have happened. Did Twilight Town not exist anymore? Could they not take you back? You bit your lip and dug your nails into your palm, trying to remain somewhat calm.

And then Sora finally spoke up, "uh… Twilight Town is _sorta_ covered in darkness. We can't really get there right now."

Immediately, your stomach began to ache more. What could that even _mean_ ? You controlled your voice, keeping it as even as you could, "then… maybe you could take me with you? In case you _can_ get back there?"

"It's too dangerous," Merlin spoke up, not giving the boy a chance to respond, "Sora will just have to come find you when he can return to Twilight Town-"

"But what if it's too late when he _does_ come? I know magic - I can protect myself," you said, "I've been fine around here-"

"[y/n], you've only begun learning magic." Merlin frowned, crossing the room, "you're barely conjuring _thunder_ at the moment while your blizzard and fire are still rather weak." You only frowned in response at first - he was right, but _Sora_ didn't know that.

At the melancholy that came over you, Sora was immediately there to respond: "hey! I promise that if the road to Twilight Town opens up, I'll come get you first - _and_ I'll help you explain everything!" He beamed, and you couldn't fight back a smile.

You didn't know who was still even _in_ Twilight Town. You weren't sure whether your parents were there, nor the friends you'd begun making - but you only nodded slowly. "Okay. Thank you, Sora."

The entire time, you couldn't drop your gaze from his eyes - _bold and bright and blue as the daytime sky_ . Something about his eyes were _too familiar_ , but… you barely knew Sora. Not enough to have the sense of familiarity that you did. Something about Sora was a complete mystery to you, and that was unsettling. You wanted to know more. You _had_ to know more. Maybe you could figure out what was so strange and familiar about his eyes if you could figure out _who_ Sora was.

His face fell slightly, as he nervously looked over to his companions before he forced a smile, looking back to you. "Hey! Come to the marketplace with me, so we can catch up." He smiled, ignoring the sharp glare Donald shot his way.

By "catching up," you soon found out that practically meant Sora was going to show off his accomplishments in the past few weeks - not ashamed to drop facts about other worlds since _y'know, you were already kind of aware of other worlds so what harm could it be?_ \- like helping someone named Fa Mulan save her country and about helping out someone named Beast save his castle (which you had to admit, you sort of marvelled at the fact Sora was in a _castle_ ). Soon enough you were wandering the marketplace with Sora and his friends, listening to the adventures they'd been having.

"How long have you been here?" He finally asked.

You shoved your hands into your pockets, rocking back and forth on your heels. "Just… a couple days, really. Merlin's been helping me with magic-"

He cut you off almost immediately, "oh! Yeah - I meant to ask about that! I didn't know you know magic!"

"I actually started learning after you left Twilight Town."

"Can I see?" He smiled, and your stomach flipped. _There's just something about him_ -

"I don't think that's a good idea, Sora," Goofy spoke up, and you sort of dismissed the idea with a hand wave.

"It'll be fine since blizzard shouldn't do too much. Just - let's get out of the way, okay?"

Tucking into a small little alcove away from people, you started to put your focus into casting blizzard: the familiar numbness, the icy fingertips as you pressed a hand against the wall, frost beginning to grow. The moment Sora softly gasped, your focus was lost and feeling regained as you slowly brought your hand back from the wall, letting it fall back to your side.

"That's so cool!" He said, Donald rolling his eyes behind him. You forced a smile as he gushed over your magic, as if he hadn't been telling you about _literally saving worlds_ just before. But something about it made you a little happy - that someone who's a hero like _Sora_ was amazed by your amateur spellcasting. Maybe that had been his goal. You didn't know much about Sora at the time, but… based on your two interactions, he seemed like the kind of person who'd build others up.

"I'm also kinda good with healing stuff, I guess?" You said, unsure of how else to phrase _I'm literally the daughter of two doctors who were completely set on me taking on the family business, I can do medical things_ since, if you were honest, you weren't sure if things like _doctors_ even existed in other worlds. Maybe that was stupid, but Sora's smile never fell.

"Do you know cure?"

"Yes," you lied, swearing internally. "Yeah! Yeah, I know cure," you forced a smile, "so if you ever don't want to waste magical energy or anything, I'm always here," you sort of laughed it off.

Thankfully, Donald reminded Sora they had _places to be_ right after, sparing you from any further questions about your magic experience and from lying about being _totally skilled at casting cure_. You watched the three run off to go board their ship and take off, before immediately turning to go find Merlin and basically beg that he teach you cure.

Just as you had expected, you found the old wizard in his house - somewhat debating with Cid about _technological advances_ being _no match_ for his _magic_ rather heatedly when you walked in. Cid bit down on the toothpick in his mouth, frustrated by the elder's reluctance to drop the topic until he finally caught sight of you standing in the doorway. He nodded in your direction, making some comment about how _the kid's back_ (to which you sort of pouted, since you were _almost_ sixteen, not _quite_ a child anymore) before Merlin calmed down slightly at the moment, before regaining his jolly grandpa-like behavior that he usually kept when he was around you. You still weren't sure why he kept up the facade - or maybe he wasn't? It'd only been days since you met him, and he seemed to be eccentric almost all the time unless he was arguing with Cid over the technology he was bringing into Hollow Bastion.

"Merlin?" You asked, walking over, "I need to learn cure."

He raised a brow, staring at you curiously. "Well - I certainly _intend_ on teaching you cure but-"

"I wanna help Sora if he needs it." You said, catching a chuckle from Cid as he shot you a quick glance. "Since he said he'd take me back to Twilight Town - I feel like I owe it to him, I guess."

He nodded slowly, mulling over the idea before finally agreeing to try to teach you cure during your next session tomorrow. Excitement bubbled up in your stomach - you could actually _help_ people, then. Sure, medical experience was fine and dandy but you didn't have supplies on hand (something your mother would surely scold you for, had she been given the chance) while cure could at least help more than bandaging a wound while in the middle of battle. You thanked Merlin immediately, turning and heading back to the couch that you called home to start practicing what you could for the next session - fire, blizzard, and _maybe_ if Leon wasn't home, you could muster up thunder.

But then you remembered. You never exactly _knew_ what drove your parents (or, rather, your mother mainly) to detest magic as much as they did - and frankly, you never really wanted to ask. They often snapped at you and your brother for merely _mentioning_ magic around them, and when the two of you discussed learning cure due to the assistance it could provide in the clinic, you were met with a conversation about how doctors would be more practical than _foolish hand-waving_. Sure, a potion here and there would be necessary - but nothing more. Bandages and ointments and, eventually, surgeries were what waited in your future. Maybe that's why the thought of learning cure thrilled you so much. Another small act of rebellion.

After a moment, another thought caused your stomach to sink. Sure, it was a small act of rebellion - but you weren't exactly sure you even had something to rebel against anymore. Your parents were missing, and when you really thought about it, you weren't even sure if they were _alive_ . That thought alone terrified you, and as flames dances across your fingertips quite _effortlessly_ now, you couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had begun creeping into your system. You held your breath, watching the flames die down as you looked out the window.

What _exactly_ was going to await you in the future?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its almost 2 am and im gonna do a double post rn so i guess ill throw chapter fifteen up rn before i pass out for tonight wHOOPS
> 
> also fun fact the doc im writing this on is 91 pages rn haha


	16. fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sora decides something. you learn some things. you remember some good things for once.

The sound of heavy stone doors sliding shut was enough to elicit a sigh of relief from the trio.

The slight burning that rested in his side and shoulder was a reminder of the close call with Hades, and the scratches that decorated his arms and shins stood to remind him of the three-headed dog and all the rocks that had dug into his skin. The pain in his back went away as he straightened up, stretching and popping his joints, the weirdest satisfaction birthed from the _pop!_ his spine made in the process.

Casting cure on himself, Sora let out another sigh as pain unwove itself from his presence, scratches healing themselves. He thanked the world that he had cure, because potions were _disgusting_ like medicine - even if they _did_ heal him when he was in a pinch, _and_ provide him with a little burst of energy while doing so. Flower petals fluttered out of being as a wash of cold disappeared from his body, causing him to let out a shudder in the process. The moment he felt relieved of pain, he took off with his friends in tow.

He remembered you, though. How you dropped the little fact about healing into the conversation with him, a bit wavering in how confident you were about your abilities judging by how quick you were to clarify you _knew_ cure and were willing to help him.

And sure - there _was_ a little pause between you saying yes and you saying that you _definitely_ knew cure. Nonetheless, he thought of you and made a mental note to maybe stop by Hollow Bastion the next time he wasn't _too_ scraped up and let you practice cure on him. There was Leon and Yuffie that probably required your attention, Sora guessed, but maybe he could at least drop in and update you on Twilight Town in the process. A win-win situation: he was healed, you got both practice and news of your hometown. Plus maybe you'd also get a little confidence boost in seeing your work actually, well, _work_.

So Sora decided he'd _definitely_ stop in and see you the next time he could. He'd check out Twilight Town, make sure he wouldn't terrify you with any wounds or anything, and then maybe brighten your day a bit if he could. He sort of smiled at the thought. And then something tugged at his heartstrings as he had to wonder what was so strangely _familiar_ about you.

He shrugged off the feeling, usually, since he recognized you from Twilight Town, after all. Maybe that was all it was. But, then again, something about you tugged at the back of his mind in the weirdest way. You were just a girl from Twilight Town who ended up in the wrong place, but… you stood out a bit too much. He dismissed the thought.

After all, he still had a world to save. You could mystify him some other time.

-x-

Your sessions with Merlin had taken on a certain schedule. After a small breakfast with Yuffie, you'd meet with Merlin (and clarify that, yes, you had breakfast, since he always _insisted_ on it in order to help keep your body sustained while the drain of magic was working) and practice conjuring first and foremost. Fire would dance upon your fingertips and across your palms effortlessly at this point, as fire was the _easiest_ spell for you to work with… at least, when you were calm it was. Your temper, on the other hand, caused the fire to flare up involuntarily - which was the worst when your attempts at conjuring thunder and cure would fail, as you grew frustrated with yourself and nearly lost control of the fire that burned in your soul. Merlin scolded you constantly - _conjuring is one thing, control is another_ \- and you begun working on keeping your skills in check.

While fire was what came easiest, blizzard had become easier to cast as well. You never really preferred it, as the icy feeling lingered in your fingers and bones a little too much, as well of the memories of a certain someone attached to the spell sort of brought up feelings you weren't ready to confront while others were around. Thunder was frustrating, sure - but you had the two most basic spells down and you were proud of that. It was the little steps that counted the most, after all - you couldn't expect to be a master after a day.

When your conjuring had finally grown tiresome, Merlin would escort you out of his home and towards where Heartless commonly appeared - teaching you about directed your spells at enemies in order to give you some form of protecting yourself. While your spells didn't go awry too often, sometimes the frustration would take hold and you'd nearly singe Merlin's beard or burn yourself in the process. Merlin would always tut at the sight of your mistake, making the same comment as always about perhaps finding a way for you to hone your magic - maybe with a staff, or a wand.

You watched a creature disappear after a final burst of flame took over it, as you breathed heavily before turning back to Merlin for any sort of critique. When he didn't speak, you felt disappointment burn through your veins - what had you messed up on to make him so silent?

Soon he spoke: "does magic run in your family?" At your confusion, he continued on, "not that it would make a difference in your abilities, of course, but something about your abilities _are_ a bit odd."

You only pursed your lips before shaking your head. "Not that I know of. My brother taught himself magic, but… it wasn't anything in our blood, I guess?"

"Peculiar…" He paused, "are you sure?"

"Positive. At least, if there _was_ someone, my parents would have never told me." You stretched, "they hated magic. I kinda had to hide all my magic notes and whatnot."

"Why?"

You shrugged, walking past Merlin as you strode back towards his house for some well-deserved rest. "Just did."

"That's strange," he muttered, following after you. "You're a very talented young lady, having being self-taught - why prevent you from pursuing your skills?"

You only shrugged again. "They just really hated magic. Always did." _That's why your brother left, after all._ "Believed in healing people the "natural way" with bandages and medicine and surgery and whatever. Detested the idea of even learning magic," you frowned, slowing to a stop. A pit grew in your stomach at the thought, gnawing away at you. Maybe that's what caused them to disappear? Because _you_ also took to learning magic behind their back?

Merlin stepped past you, turning back to look at you. He frowned, pity gleaming from behind his spectacles, and finally settled on changing the subject. "You wanted to learn cure, correct?" He finally addressed your request, since it'd been over a week since you asked. You nodded. He continued onward, "it's quite a difficult spell to learn when you aren't injured, since it tends to be rather… spur of the moment, I suppose? I don't intend on asking you to go out get hurt at all just to learn a spell! Perhaps the next time someone gets scratched or something I'll bring you in to try casting the spell," he continued rambling as he continued back towards his home. You fell into step behind him.

With no one really injured (at least, no one that couldn't take care of themself), Merlin decided to redirect your focus onto learning thunder. The next few days were composed of trying to muster up some form of thunder - the idea of your hair standing on end doing nothing for you, electricity not running rampant through your blood at all, and the mere thought of the spell started to rain on your parade. You hadn't had trouble with any spells before thunder - your grasp on blizzard actually improving over those next few days. You received no word from Sora the entire time, fire flickering onto your fingertips and dancing back and forth absentmindedly as you grew frustrated with the idea of not hearing anything after _this long_. Did Sora have this much trouble with learning spells? Probably not.

Merlin watched as you cast blizzard at a heartless, the creature disappearing upon a final hit as something dropped from it'd body with a soft _clink!_ as it hit the group. Puzzled, you approached it and picked it up, turning the little shard within your fingers as you looked back to Merlin. This hadn't been the first time you'd seen these things fall (albeit as rare as it was to see, you'd been lucky enough to see it once or twice  before), but you'd never really paid much attention to them before.

"Merlin? What is this?" You extended a hand to him, the black shard of a crystal gleaming in the light.

He reached down, picking it up and holding it closer to his eyes. "When you defeat the Heartless, there's these… ingredients, I suppose, that will drop from them. There are Moogle shops scattered about that you can visit and synthesize items that will help enhance your abilities through magic." He looked back to you, "perhaps collecting these items will help you hone your skills, if you can create anything."

Taking the shard back, you placed it in your pocket and nodded. Perhaps so. Of course, upon actually talking to a Moogle, you discovered you could make… _literally nothing!_ What a fun experience, you thought while forcing a smile and heading home. At least the shard was pretty and you could hold onto it for a bit. Upon returning to the empty home, you tucked the shard away somewhere that Yuffie or Leon wouldn't mess with it and head into the small kitchen to make some sort of dinner for yourself. You'd come to learn that Leon often patrolled at night, and Yuffie would sometimes go out and spend her time training - leaving you to enjoy a meal alone and most likely fall asleep before either of them would return, your own training leaving you pretty exhausted by the time you were finished with dinner.

You fished through the fridge, looking for something you could make yourself and possibly leave leftovers for Leon and Yuffie to have if they wished, before fishing out the things to make pasta. For the first time in a while, you thought about your dad's cooking. The afternoon in the kitchen where you talked about tradition came to mind first. But there were plenty of other times that you sat in the kitchen with your dad, talking about casual things that came to mind. Then there were the times that your brother would try to steal bits and pieces from the burning hot food - like when he'd try to stab a fork into a stew while your father's back was turned, trying to steal a chunk of potato; or when he'd try to dip a spoon into a sauce in order to steal a little taste when he could.

You remembered the afternoons where your father would bake cakes or cupcakes or cookies to satisfy you and your brother's craving for sweets - almost always at the end of the week, had the two of you not stirred up too much trouble together. You and your brother sitting in front of the oven sometimes, heat radiating off of it as you watched a cake bake impatiently. When you turned ten, you and your brother had basically sat around in the kitchen the entire time, watching your dad bake and cool and decorate cupcakes for you and the friends that'd be coming over - completely _fascinated_ with his culinary prowess.

You added a pinch into the water as it started to bubble, not quite boiling yet. Your father's voice always came to mind when you cooked - _always salt the pasta water_ , he'd say as he'd sprinkle in salt, _that's what helps give the pasta flavor while it's cooking_ . You turned your attention to making a sauce. The craving for beef stew gnawed away at you - with tomatoes and carrots and _plenty_ of potatoes because you and your brother would _always_ try to get as many potatoes as the two of you could whenever your father let you serve yourselves, and if he didn't put _extra_ , he'd never get any. A small smile tugged at your lips as you continued making dinner. You missed those nights as a family.

As your mind began wandering, you finally came back to realize that one of the pots was starting to boil over - causing you to let out a gasp as you rushed to move it, water spilling out and barely getting onto your hand as you let out a hiss of pain. You reached out with your unburnt hand, shutting off the head as you nursed your hand, stepping back away from the stove.

You brought your hand up to your mouth, shutting your eyes as you began blowing on it softly as your focus fell onto doing _anything_ to get rid of the pain that was spiraling through your hand, a burning pulse keeping you grounded completely. A spill of swears tumbled out between your blows, cool air gracing your skin until finally a sense of cold began to wash over your hand. When you opened your eyes, you were greeted with the sight of what looked like flower petals falling away and fading into the distance as pain disappeared from your hand. You stared at your hand, processing what had just happened before a smile broke out.

You just cast cure. _You just cast cure_ . New spell. _Take that, Merlin_ . Now you just have to work on conjuring it _better_ and actually doing it _consciously_ instead of burning your hand everytime you want to practice a spell. But you still smiled, bouncing slightly with excitement as pride took over - _you just cast a new spell! -_ and you only let out a happy chuckle.  _Now you were one step closer to helping people._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god i promise im gonna start writing more sora content because i love that boy  
> but good news! he does show up in the next chapter and the chapter after that and hopefully every fucking chapter @ past me why am i depriving both myself n readers of that sweet sweet sora content  
> (i wish i knew man. this fic has been planned out for a rly long time.)
> 
> also i was hoping doing a double post before i sleep would make up for the fact that these chapters. arent very long still. i am so sorry.
> 
> i dab as i sleep pls enjoy the fic and maybe review and tell me everything im doing wrong and maybe some things im doing right i guess idk man its up to you


	17. sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you end up asking a favor.

Over the next few days, the crackle of a fireplace and the smell of smoke and old books became comforting to you as you began spending more and more studying magic in Merlin's home. You carried your little journal with you at all times, sometimes making little notes and correcting little bits of information in an attempt to maybe have some guidance for when you were on your own. The tapping of keys kept you aware of Cid at the other end of the room, while Merlin's presence would often pop in and out while you were reading. Everything felt strange - you hadn't exactly seen technology quite like this in Twilight Town, although it could have easily existed and you would have never known it - as you watched Cid furiously type away at the computer sometimes, wondering what exactly he was doing. The intimidating aura he radiated off always kept you from asking, the fear of him either completely disregarding you or treating you like a child holding you back.

Besides - a part of you felt like even if you did ask, you wouldn't have completely understood it. So you sat by the fireplace, the crackle and pop of wood like music to you while you flipped through your pages. Merlin peered over your shoulder, reading at the notes you'd been rewriting and correcting with little tips that you'd come to learn helped you with your conjuring.

"Goodness, what outdated sources…" He pursed his lips, circling the table and sitting down, "I do believe you'd improve if you spent your time actually _performing_ spells rather than studying your notes like a student cramming for their exams."

You raised a brow, looking back down to your book. "This is how I originally learned, actually - since I didn't really have a tutor in Twilight Town." Flipping a page, you tapped your pencil's eraser against the blank paper, "maybe I could start taking notes during our sessions to help when I'm on my own-"

"I prefer that you keep your focus on our lessons, [y/n]." At the look of disappointment that you gave, he continued on, " _but_ if you insist, I suppose it could help to write down a few pointers every now and again."

You beamed at the idea. Something about writing things down just made everything better, if you were honest. Maybe it was because you didn't have the best memory sometimes, and writing it down committed it to memory better, after all - you'd learned that while taking notes for your classes, rewriting and correcting until you knew the information by heart.

Several minutes into your conversation with Merlin, you heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor across the room, Cid making some comment about how he can't _"concentrate with all yer yapping_ , _"_ as he left you and Merlin alone. Merlin stood, shooting a glare towards the door before dropping the disgust as he looked back to you, suggesting that maybe the two of you go and see if there's any wands or rods or staffs in the shops that wouldn't be too terribly priced. You only nodded in response, following him into town as he talked to you about materials and what to look for if you ever look into buying something like this - as while most wizards of his ability don't exactly _use_ wands or anything of the like, they definitely aren't a burden since they basically function as a focus point when casting spells, helping to target things easier.

Of course, it just so happened that the two of you weren't able to find anything during your search in town. As you began to head back to Merlin's house to gather your things, he stopped barely steps away from his door with a gasp before disappearing in a poof of smoke. As the smoke cleared, you frowned - you were right at his house's front door, after all, and surely he couldn't have given you some sort of warning?

No matter, you decided, you'd get your things and assume that the day's lessons were over. Of course, it didn't help when you opened the door to find Merlin standing in the room, accompanied by Sora and Donald and Goofy as the four were already deep in conversation. Not that it surprised you Merlin would just disappear to enter his own home, teleportation simplifying everything - but seeing Sora and his friends was enough of a surprise that you immediately understood the rush of his disappearance. At the sound of the door creaking open, Merlin turned his attention back to you.

"Oh!" He said, giving you a quick smile, "my apologies for leaving you behind, but…" He looked towards the three, only for Donald to finally squak (or… whatever you would call that noise, since you were at a loss of words to describe it) in response. Was Donald always like this? You weren't exactly sure - but, then again, saving the world had to be stressful to deal with.

"Wait a minute!" He said, stomping in anger at being off topic once more, "let's talk about the problem - it's Maleficent! She's back!"

While the name meant absolutely nothing to you, Merlin immediately looked worried, and you made the mental note to ask about this _Maleficent_ person next time you had the chance. Merlin adjusted his glasses, a stern demeanor taking over him, "where? Inside the castle?"

"Yep! And the Heartless too!" Goofy said.

Right after, you only heard Merlin muttering something right before Donald launched into an explanation of the events that had taken place in this castle. He stole a glance at you, debating something as Donald continued speaking - Sora interjecting with a detail every now and then - before finally casting a spell, smoke surrounding the five of you as you felt weightless and warm for a moment. The next thing you knew, you were standing in a dark room covered with thorny plants with a glowing orb propped up in the middle.

"Perhaps I better just see for myself," Merlin said as Donald quieted down while looking around, offset by the sudden transition. He started towards the orb, the mouse standing near it turning to face him as he stopped, beckoning for you to follow. You did so, staying a step away to minimize the risk of you doing any harm to this orb. Merlin stared into the sparkling ball, pursing his lips while remarking " _interesting_ …" before he looked back to you. "Can you feel anything, [y/n]?"

As you stared into the light, you felt the hairs on your arm stand at attention - as if there was _something_ trying to tell you something. "Sorta?" You looked over to Merlin, "not really."

He nodded slowly, looking back to the large orb. "You still have much to learn, then."

"What's happening, Merlin?" The mouse-woman (who you begun to think was _definitely_ a queen of some sort, judging by the fancy gown and the _obvious crown on her head_ that you hadn't seen until you finally started paying attention) said, voice gentle as a lamb. Almost _immediately_ you had decided you liked her - she reminded you of some of your primary school teachers, the ones that always gave out treats for correct answers and would put pretty little stickers next to bright red '100's with a little smile , eyes made out of the zeros. Her presence was almost enough to distract you from the situation at hand, as you turned your attention back to Merlin.

"This is… not good," he frowned, "in fact, I'm afraid it's quite serious…" He looked back to you, "you can't quite feel this yet, but there's an abnormality that needs to be dealt with. Allow me," he paused, before waving his hands and conjuring a door to appear in a flash of smoke.

"What's that?" Sora asked, turning to face the white door.

"My boy, _that_ ," Merlin started to cross over towards the door, "is a gateway to a special world." He stopped, examining it as he turned back to face Sora, "someone in _that_ world is responsible for what's going on in _this_ castle - of that, I'm certain."

After the cheers of Sora's friends, you watched him approach the door, determination pushing him further: "then we should go get him!" He laid a hand around one of the handles right as Merlin stepped forward.

"Wait a moment!" Sora frowned as Merlin turned back to look to you and the queen that stood next to you, "the perpetrators must be stopped, of course, but there's something else to do first…" You stood idly by as Merlin launched into things related to the door and the other world, instructing Sora to lock the other door with the keyblade upon finding it, before immediately turning cryptic with advice to not follow temptation to do something dark - saying that they'd all know _immediately_ upon seeing it.

As your attention drifted, you noticed the bruises along Sora's arm, a small scrape oozing a drop of blood that had been running down his arm during that entire scene,. As he stepped back to assess what he and his friends were carrying, you walked over to him.

"Hey, Sora, you're hurt." You said, catching his attention as he caught sight of the wound.

"Oh. Guess I am." He raised his arm, about to cast cure as you took his hand in your own in order to hold his arm steady as you drew your other arm up and hovered it over the cut before putting your focus into casting cure. And after a moment, you drew your hand back after you felt a bit of your energy diminish - and sure enough, the wound was gone. His eyes widened as he looked back up to you, as if he had been doubting your abilities. You could only smile in return - he wouldn't have been wrong to, after all, since you _had_ been lying when you told him you knew cure.

You let go of his hand, taking a small step back as your arms dropped back down to your sides. "You should still come and visit me sometimes, Sora," you rocked back and forth on your heels, smiling still, "even if the roads to Twilight Town aren't open, I could use the company."

He smiled, running a hand through his hair, "I will, _I will_ ," he sort of laughed before catching sight of the door again, remembering what he'd been doing as he looked back to you, saying "gotta go!" before immediately taking off towards the door with his friends. Was he always this restless? Something told you _absolutely_ . He reminded you of Hayner. Maybe they would have been great friends if Sora stuck around Twilight Town more - then again, Hayner _always_ took to making friends easily, and something told you Sora was the same way.

The doors shut behind him and companions, leaving the three of you to simply wait. After minutes of silence, you heard the click of heels as the mouse walked over to Merlin, greeting him the way someone would with an old friend. When you thought about it, you didn't really know much of Merlin's past, did you? Maybe there were stories you'd yet to hear. You'd have to ask him one day - something told you he'd be glad to share.

"I didn't know you had taken on an apprentice, Merlin," she said. Merlin had never really called you that, did he? It was more of him teaching you tips and helping you gain a bit more control - but, then again, he _was_ teaching you a lot more than you originally expected. So… you _were_ some sort of apprentice, then, when you really thought about it.

Apparently, Merlin had thought the same, uncharacteristically silent at the comment before she spoke once more. "She has a lot of potential, I can feel it."

You _definitely_ liked her. "Thank you, your majesty," you became flustered at addressing her as such, finally receiving the reminder you were standing in front of royalty and realization struck as you realized _you literally just met royalty_.

As she continued speaking with Merlin, you continued processing the fact you had literally just spoken to royalty - _and_ that she had paid you a sweet compliment that brought up a bit of confidence in you. Maybe if you told your parents that a _queen_ told you you had potential, they wouldn't be able to argue with you learning magic. Then again, what proof would you have that it happened? You could start writing everything down in a diary, sure, but what would make people believe you? Pictures? You hadn't carried a camera, since you didn't actually _own_ one, and you were sure that Merlin wouldn't have one either due to his detestation of most technology. But perhaps you'd start writing everything down, just to keep the memories once your adventure ended. What would you do after all of this, once you found your parents? Go home and go back to school and make up all of your work before going back to boring, sticky hot summers working in the clinic with your parents?

Maybe starting a diary would be good for you - remind you of the time you actually went on an adventure and enjoyed it, of the times you learned magic and became better at it, of meeting people like Merlin and Yuffie and Sora.

Or maybe you wouldn't go back to Twilight Town, just like your brother. With time, you'd disappear from people's memories there - being just another name that was lost as people stopped looking and stopped wondering just what happened to that girl. Maybe you'd cross paths with your brother if you kept exploring the worlds, or maybe you'd hear some story about this great guy who finally went into his dreams of music and was spectacular. Maybe you'd find out what happened to him, whether it be from a book or from a newspaper or from him telling you the stories himself. You dismissed the thought, but left the hope burning there. All you could really do was hold onto your hope that you'd find him one day. Maybe you'd hug him, or you'd punch him in the arm and scream at him for not saying a single word to you over the years, or maybe you'd let fire dance upon your fingertips and jokingly challenge him.

-x-

The room had fallen quiet of conversation, hours passing before the room seemed to suddenly brighten up. Right before your eyes, you watched as light overtook the thorns, travelling up the plants as they disintegrated right before your eyes, bursting with light and leaving little shimmers dancing in the air. Everything felt more _right_ in the room, the weird feeling that overcame you earlier disappearing as everything just felt much _happier_ , much _lighter_ to you. Maybe that had been what Merlin was talking about - what he felt that was _different_ that had only left your hairs standing on end.Merlin the queen exclaimed happily as you simply stood by, watching the shimmering light in the air before hearing noises coming from the doorway. You turned back to face it, right as the doors flew open and Donald was sent flying through the air with a shriek before hitting the floor, Sora and Goofy walking in right after him.

In the doorway across the room, a duck similar to Donald walked in, dressed in a purple dress and looking slightly less fancy than the queen - gladly greeting him before growing frustrated over the fact he had apparently forgotten their date again. While you never really _expected_ Donald to have a sweetheart, something about it didn't really surprise you…  as well as the fact he forgot their date.

The room fell silent as a spark of light appeared at the tip of Sora's keyblade, the large orb shining in response, and after a moment you could only wonder what had just happened. After he said something to the queen, he looked back to his friends, proud and happy as ever. Was Sora ever upset? It seemed almost inhuman for him to be like this twenty-four-seven.

"We should be moving on-"

"Sora," you stopped him, "actually… can we talk about something for a minute?"

He stared at you for a moment before dumbly nodding, looking back to his friends. "Hey, I'll, uh… I'll meet you at the gummi ship."

The two left, leaving you and Sora to step away from the remainder of the room. As you walked up the stairs and into the throne room, you felt anxiety take hold of your stomach. He was busy enough as it is, but you couldn't help but wonder if maybe he could help you - even if he couldn't take you home.

"I wanted to ask you for a favor." You said, lowering your voice slightly - even if the two of you were alone.

"Okay, sure!" The smile he had fell as he began scratching at the back of his neck, watching you curiously. "What is it?"

"...It… actually has to do with my family."

He frowned, looking away. "[y/n]... I'm sorry, but we still can't take you back-"

Shifting your weight from one leg to the other, you realized you'd never told him what happened before. "I didn't tell you what happened, but… my parents are missing, I think. I don't know if they're still in Twilight Town, but… when I got home one day, they were just _gone_ \- no note, no signs of a struggle, just… _poof_. Gone." You paused, taking a breath. "I need you to just… keep a lookout for them."

"Okay!" He said, returning to the stereotypically happy Sora you'd come to recognize, "I'll let you know if we see them."

"And… there's something else. It's about my brother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god i want these chapters to be longer but i look at my notes and its like "welp no ideas here"
> 
> also god its final weeks and then i get to fly home and pray for me y'all i dont doubt that ill do fine on my finals but the doubt still lies there like ;) 
> 
> also i dont know how long this chapters been written. did i promise a double post? i cant remember but uh sorry if i did. seventeen is in the works rn because i need a break from schoolwork or ill stab myself with the endless knowledge of theatre history ive acquired.


	18. seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you and sora talk.  
> you ask each other a favor.  
> things start to change.

The throne room fell quiet as you mentioned him to Sora, the sort of seriousness weighing the word down enough to change the atmosphere completely. Talking about your parents had been nothing, but your brother was… different. Before your eyes, Sora changed in his demeanor, as if the weight of the single word alone told him more than anything else. Maybe it did - you always changed a bit whenever you talked about your brother. You were less cheerful, less full of life, almost as if a part of you had been taken away - and, in a sense, it had.

When your brother left a few years back, everyone who knew you saw the effect it had on you. His name started to make you cry, the smell of his cologne comforted you, and all the pictures of your family were enough to quiet you down - and you'd noticed that, the day after he left, all the pictures with him in it were put away somewhere, like your parents were ashamed of his decision… or maybe they were looking out for you, trying to make your home a bit safer for you to exist in. You'd never thought to ask them, just assuming that they were angry, that they didn't want anything to do with your brother anymore. And with you, just the thought of him was enough to change you completely.

In that moment, Sora was able to see that for the first time. You'd heard the details too many times to not know what was going on: this solemn look would take over you, which always made people afraid you'd cry if you pushed yourself to talk about him for too long; you'd close yourself off, your arms already hugging across your chest as your gaze started to fall onto anything but Sora; and you'd just suddenly go softer than usual demeanor held, your voice quieting down to only a few decibels above a whisper when you spoke. You knew your signs well - but when it came to your brother, it was near impossible to mask your emotions.

"I didn't know you had a brother." Sora looked at you. How was he supposed to know, really? Sora barely knew you at this point, and you sort of hoped he wasn't upset over that fact. He knew the basics: your hometown, your name, the fact you could do magic… there was a lot that Sora didn't know about you, just as there was a lot you didn't know about him. Something about that made him… upset? Was he upset? He wasn't sure - but the fact you were still an enigma to him just set a stone in his stomach, invoking _some_ emotion to surface inside of him. Maybe he'd sit around one day and get to know you, if he was given the chance.

Some part of him, deep down, wanted to know what caused the solemn look in your eyes - even if Sora himself didn't quite understand it. A part of him cried out in recognition of you, _you, you_ but… he didn't know you. He didn't understand it.

But you smiled nonetheless, albeit it was a bit forced. "Yeah," you said, "yeah, I… I have an older brother. I, uh, I call him by a couple nicknames since he's always hated his full name, but… I don't know,  I was just wondering if you had ever come across anyone from Twilight Town that mentioned having a sister. Or if you could also keep a look out for him, I guess?"

He immediately nodded, ever the optimist in your eyes, and beamed. "Alright!" He paused, before you could see him formulating an idea, "hey, actually - since I'm looking out for them, maybe you could look out for someone for me, too! His name's Riku and I've been looking for him."

"Riku…" You parroted back, committing the name to memory as you nodded slowly, not even stopping to think to ask about what he looked like. "Okay! Sure, I can keep an eye out for him." The room fell quiet again, before you finally piped up, a bit curious of who this stranger was, "so… who is he?"

He looked at you, confused at your question before realizing what exactly you'd been asking. "Oh, Riku? He's my best friend!" He beamed. Sora seemed like the kind of guy who had a thousand best friends, if you were honest "We grew up together on this little island," he started, before launching into a small backstory about him and Riku and someone named Kairi, before dropping some comment about how he's been looking for them so that they can all go back to the islands.

For the strangest reason, part of that just... _hurt_ . A slow, dull ache panged at your chest, and you wrote it off as being nothing…  because, ultimately, that's what it was, wasn't it? You didn't know Sora that well -  even _with_ the mysterious familiarity of his eyes that haunted you sometimes. He was a stranger. If Sora went back to the islands, would you ever see him again? Who's to say he wouldn't just drop you off in Twilight Town - _where you belonged_ , you forcefully reminded yourself - and be glad he didn't have to deal with you anymore?

Sora wasn't like that - at least, not from what you could tell. He seemed glad to make new friends, to help people, to talk to you when he could. But maybe you'd been reading into all of his actions as faux niceties - _Mr.Hero playing his role_ just as he was supposed to. Kind and caring and brave. You dismissed the thought once again - if Sora turned out to be that way, then _so be it_. You refused to let yourself get invested any further. Mystery aside, you resolved to care about him a certain amount and no further. He was a temporary part of your life, just as this adventure was going to be. The stabbing pain that shot through your system disagreed. You bite back your thoughts.

"[y/n]?" Sora said, eyes pinned to your face as you snapped back into reality. You blinked in the sight of him, and he spoke again, "are you okay?"

You nodded slowly, cursing yourself internally for getting so caught up in your own mind. "Yeah. I'm fine, Sora, just a little distracted" you forced a smile and reached up to brush a stray hair from your face, "sorry."

The weak smile he'd mustered up in response to your own slowly began to fall. _Something about the look in your eyes_. Your stomach twisted slightly and you watched him take a deep breath before speaking, "I should get going." Anxiety starting whirring in the back of your mind.

"Oh - yeah, sorry for keeping you so long-" You started, before he suddenly smiled and your thoughts went slightly askew.

"Hey, it's fine! I'll talk to you next time I'm in Hollow Bastion, okay?"

Worries melted from your mind as you found yourself dumbly nodding. He shot you a quick farewell as he turned, running off to go reunite with his companions. Slowly you breathed in, shutting your eyes for a moment as you shuddered while you exhaled, a strange chill washing over you. Descending the stairs, you found yourself walking back into a conversation between Merlin and Queen Minnie, and within minutes you were back in Hollow Bastion - left only with a faint warmth as you regained your sense of direction. You'd never get used to teleportation, would you? You breathed once more before finally bidding Merlin farewell for the day, heading out towards your temporary lodging hoping to find some quiet for a while.

The house had been empty when you arrived, and to be frank - you were absolutely glad to find it as such. The wooden floorboard creaked as you carelessly stepped directly onto it as you inhaled sharply, as if the sound disrupted the atmosphere beyond repair, or as if a silent alarm had triggered somewhere to alert the entire world of your little mistake. Shutting the door behind yourself, you kicked off your shoes and left your bag sitting on the couch as you head over to the kitchen. Time slipped past as you stood at the sink, staring down at an empty cup you'd retrieved, mind lost in its own world.

The door creaked open, snapping you back to reality as you turned and saw Yuffie's figure darting up the steep staircase. How long had you been standing there? You shook your head, setting down the cup and crossing the room. Yuffie's steps thud against the floor quickly, down the stairs as she shouted something out to you before heading back out into the town, the door punctuating her visit with a loud slam. Something about how hyper Yuffie always seemed to be tended to knock the wind out of your sails quickly - even if she hadn't directly interacted with you.

You only threw yourself down onto the couch, which let out the cry of springs groaning out under the sudden addition of your weight. One arm rested behind your head, the other across your stomach as you stared up at the ceiling. A uneasy feeling rested in your stomach, as you wondered what exactly had brought it on. It hadn't been Sora, had it? Sure, you were caught up in thinking about what the presumably near future held for you, but it wasn't anything _new_ .

Anxiety built in your stomach, and you sat up and searched for your bag, rummaging through it to find the cheap cologne bottle tucked away at the bottom of it. Cheap. You squeezed your eyes shut and sniffed, cringing but feeling a good, _warm_ sense of familiarity come over you. You missed him. You toyed with the bracelet around your wrist, gripping the bottle tight, and breathed until the scent left you and calmness blowed away your fears.

Sleep overcame you soon. Leon and Yuffie's arrival would usually wake you up - but that time, it hadn't. Whether it was from sheer exhaustion or because Leon made sure that things stayed quiet, you wouldn't ever be sure. But you'd been dreaming of ephemeral _goodness_ for once. The sky above you, the grass tickling your back and arms, and the hazy summer feel leaving you yearning for simpler times with your brother, with Hayner, with Pence, with Olette. You'd even begun to miss Seifer a bit, despite how frustrated he made you sometimes - although you had to admit, he was to thank for awakening the magic within you. All the people you'd begun to know during your life decided to resurface in one dream.

When Leon woke you, you almost cursed at that - because right when _one_ warm feeling of nostalgia had hit, that's when it was ripped away from your grasp. Something about the cold, hard look in Leon's eyes dismissed your internal cursing towards him, and you realized just how early it'd been with day barely breaking over the sky. He told you Merlin was looking for you. So you got ready, made a extremely quick meal to make up for your lack of dinner, and you went to see your tutor once more.

That's when the change first occurred. When your lessons became less focused on simple conjuring, and more focusing on targets, on harming threats. Merlin had begun _training_ you. For what, you weren't sure and you weren't going to ask at first. You'd always end up far too tired to, coming home exhausted and barely eating any sort of dinner before you'd pass out for the night. Merlin had you coming in almost every day to train, to sharpen your skills tremendously - and it worked, to be fair, but something about the sudden spike in progress _worried_ you.

Gone was the laxness, the warmth of Merlin's home as the two of you discussed magic over tea - and it was replaced with commands, with biting criticism, with _anything_ and _everything_ that could prepare you for _something_ . The mere thought of it frightened you sometimes - what was coming that needed you to be so adept _this_ quickly? The ideas plagued your thoughts constantly, endless ideas coming to mind ranging from minor to apocalyptic in their severity. Every single theory bit at your thoughts constantly: you'd be washing off a dish and suddenly something would snap back into your head, causing a millisecond of freezing up or fumbling with whatever you were doing. When you couldn't sleep, you were thinking endlessly about what could be coming.

One night Leon had found you sitting at the kitchen table, completely in your own world with a cold cup of tea between your fingers as you stared into nothingness. Something about how stiff you were, how completely dazed you'd become every night when he had the chance to you like this - which was rare, considering he'd head downstairs and find you passed out almost every single night he left to patrol. He walked over, gently taking the cup from your hands and snapping you back to reality. Your focus became pinned onto him as you watched him walk over to dump out your cold, bitter tea before he looked back at you.

You'd been watching him the entire time, thoughts struggling to register every movement, every action, every emotion that crossed his face and commit any of it to memory. How tired were you? How hard had Merlin been making you work? He couldn't lie - Leon _was_ concerned about you when you, a _fifteen year old_ , looked too worn down and too old sometimes. You knew that he knew what was coming, and something about how he looked at you set you on edge, making your stomach twist with uneasiness. He stood there, hip bearing against the counter as he watched you and noticed the bags that had begun to form under your eyes, the slight dullness of your eyes as fatigue set in.

"You okay?" He finally asked despite knowing the answer, breaking the silence that had been accompanying you for so long.

You nodded slowly, "yeah. I'm fine." And maybe you _sort-of_ were. Sure, you were tired from magic sapping away at your energy, and sure, you'd been getting worried over why this suddenly happened - but… you were _sort-of_ fine, at least. You could at least lie and say you were _sort-of_ fine, eliminate another worry that Leon had, another thing that could divert attention away from his job. But the curiosity had begun eating you up. "What's going on?" When he didn't respond, you spoke up again, keeping your voice as even as you could while confronting him, "I can tell somethings wrong, Leon."

Leon only stared at you at first, and you began wondering what was running through his mind. Was he going to lie to you? To tell you the truth, even if it hurt? You grew impatient with anxiety pumping through you with every beat of your heart, keeping your focus tied tight on reading Leon's expression as best as you could. He let out a sigh before he sunk into the seat across from you, running a hand through his hair as he shut his eyes. "The Heartless are getting stronger." You nodded slowly as he looked back up at you, "and, to be blunt, if you can be useful, then we need you to help us fight."

You drummed your fingers against the table idly, nodding as you took in all the information he just told you. "Okay," you said, dragging out the word before you slowly stopped nodding. "That's fair, I guess."

"Do you want me to train you?" Leon disrupted whatever thoughts had started coming to mind. You let out a soft hum, and he repeated his question.

"I'm fine. I have… magic, since-"

"I know," he cut you off, "but I didn't want to leave you defenseless if anything happened. Your magic has a limit, you know."

Leon _was_ right. You'd actually hit your limit multiple times throughout your lessons nowadays. Maybe knowing how to wield a sword would be beneficial. You drummed your fingers against the table. You finally looked back up at him, set in your original statement - you had magic. So you just sorta forced a smile as you spoke. "Then I guess I'll just prove I'm strong enough to take care of myself, Leon."

Something about the spark in your eyes made Leon smile. The only time you're ever like this is when you're working on a particularly frustrating spell, focus entirely tied up in getting it right. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, "how's thunder coming along?"

You instantly beamed. "Getting better, actually! Still kinda hard to control but I'm getting there."

Leon prodded you for more information about your magic, and you could only assume he was trying to gauge your abilities. Nonetheless, you were actually rather happy to divulge information - as your progress pleased you quite a bit. Fire - although it was now _fira_ , actually - was your strongest smell to conjure and the easiest to cast. When you told him that blizzard seemed to get harder and harder to cast, he helped cast your worries aside with the thought that maybe you were just better with fire. And maybe you were - you didn't mind it at all, really. Fire was nice to work with, and it didn't drag up nearly as many memories as casting blizzard did. At one point you watched Leon leave the room and return, sliding a pamphlet across the table to you - _synthesizing materials_.

When you looked up to respond, he just shot you a smile. "You should look into this." You only nodded in response, understanding what he had meant. _Get something to help protect yourself_ . Find something that could help keep you safe. There's plenty of different forms of armor and such that surely you could find _something_ that would work for you, considering how limited the supply was in the shops. Sure, ingredients would always serve as a tough obstacle to overcome, but… you'd find a way.

Leon left the room with only a goodnight dropped between you, exiting out the front door, and you looked back to the paper. You'd look into synthesis in the morning, maybe see what could benefit you in the future. The only thing you needed was sleep, and despite the cries of tired muscles making you debate slumping over the kitchen table - you pushed yourself forward, bones popping as you stood and stretched, and forced yourself to walk back to the couch. Climbing into bed, you wondered how everyone else had felt for a split second before melatonin decided to do its job for once. You slowly pulled a blanket over you, shutting your eyes and you soon welcomed sleep like an old friend that you felt you hadn't seen in far too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its almost 4:30 am and im sitting in my bedroom unable to sleep so i guess im not going to tonight haha  
> in all seriousness, im actually glad to be writing. keeps the bad thoughts at bay.
> 
> i actually got up, finished up this chapter, and started working on the last damn (numbered) chapter in this fic because im dumb (theres an epilogue but it'll be short so)
> 
> eighteens gonna be a shorter chapter so i might just post it and nineteen at the same time, hopefully before maintenance in the new few days since ive been on a roll w writing lately
> 
> passed all my classes. heck yeah. flying was... stressful, because i originally missed my connecting flight which ended up delayed due to plane problems. i also got to witness a lot of people being pissy over the fact their flight got delayed. me and another woman took solace in the delay because it meant a safe flight, and for me it meant getting A flight. i hate flying to tallahassee because i always get an uncomfortable pain in my right jaw and ear from the pressure change, but thats okay - i like flying in general. sometimes it gets a little nerve-wracking, but... its a good nerve-wracking.
> 
> anyway, thank y'all for all the kudos! i love to hear from you guys and reviews always make me super stoked so tbh im always glad to hear theories about where the fic is going! i hope y'all have a baller holiday season <3


	19. eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you argue.

The last time you'd sought information from a Moogle, you'd returned with only the shard of crystal you'd found and nothing but a broken dream of synthesizing materials. This time, you'd managed to get some more help - finding an actual guidebook put together for people like you that weren't exactly familiar with synthesizing items. From what you understood, there were three categories of items to synthesize: armor, weapons, and accessories - all of which needed no further explanation to their purposes.

Uncapping a pen with your teeth, you underlined a few items you had your eye on: the fire bangle or one of the more advanced versions; maybe a shadow anklet or something similar, to help protect yourself from the darkness; and maybe some sort of charm or amulet to help boost your own abilities, since you could always use a little bit of help making your spells stronger. You scratched out the fire bangle - perhaps not. The shadow anklet had slightly more use to you than fire protection, since you'd only heard nasty things about the darkness, but even that made you question whether you should be searching for specifics or just focusing on something to protect you in general.

Leon had been heading out one night when he spotted you sitting in the kitchen, scowling at the thin little book in front of you. He glanced over your shoulder, softly muttering as he read out the ingredients you had underlined before he realized what was frustrating you. "Can't help you there."

"I know," you groaned, looking up at him, "but... how am I supposed to get this stuff?"

"Ask Sora. Maybe he'll come across some of it." Leon turned to leave, only to stop, "I'll ask Merlin to pass along word."

"Thanks." You looked back down to the paper, before finally looking back at Leon, "hey, Leon, uh.. how does Merlin… teleport between worlds?"

The question had caught him slightly off guard, although he hid it pretty well. He immediately sought to dismiss any ideas you were gaining with an "I don't know. It's not important," Leon continued to stare you down, and for a moment you felt like he could read your thoughts, "don't worry about it."

You pouted slightly at that - was he underestimating you, or treating you like a child on purpose? "Do you all just _want_ me to stay here? I just thought that maybe-"

He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall as he watched you, reading your expression easily. "Like I said, don't worry about it. We want you to not go out and get _killed_ ," he frowned. "It's _dangerous_."

Immediately, you grew restless with frustration, turning in your chair to face him as you told him  "I'm not a child!" His gaze didn't move from your face, his temperment still cool as ever. Part of you wondered if you were angering him. The other part stopped caring with his first dismissal of your thoughts.

He sighed, before finally breaking the tense silence, "[y/n], you're the same age as Sora-"

"Exactly!" You said, standing, trying to find some way of equating yourself with him so you didn't feel so _small_. "He's travelling through worlds and saving stuff! If Sora can-"

"Sora's different." He said, not elaborating upon the point any further. As if you didn't _know_ that Sora was special - based on how everyone acted around him. "And _you_ started learning magic not that long ago."

You sputtered in anger, trying to find your words among your feelings. "What - I'm - Leon, I - I'm not _weak_! You know that Merlin's been training me so-"

He cut you off quickly. "Then prove it. Fight me."

You'd been caught completely off guard. "What?" _Fight_ Leon? You'd seen him in battle before, you knew how strong he was - you didn't think you could stand a chance at your current skill level, considering how he'd seen _you_ fight before and could pinpoint your weaknesses with ease.

His tone continued to stay even, "If you can beat me, then I'll talk to Merlin about teaching you how to teleport so you can go home." If there was one thing you realized about Leon, it was that he was always able to hide his emotions _extremely_ well. You couldn't tell what exactly was running through his head - not like with Aerith or Merlin or Yuffie, all of which you'd started picking up on their little telltale signs to their emotions. Leon always stayed a complete enigma when he was around you, and that frustrated you in times like these where you were wondering whether he was completely serious or if he was only toying with you to get you fired up for whatever reason.

"Wait, Leon I'm - I'm not going to _fight_ you." _You couldn't_. Leon knew your weaknesses, he criticized you on them often - you didn't think you could stand a chance against him like this.

He let out a heavy sigh, frowning at you. "You don't always get to pick and choose your battles, [y/n]."

Sputtering in anger, you finally shut the booklet on the table and huffed in anger. "I'm going to bed."

"Fine. Don't wait up for me and-" He started as you brushed past him, fire flaring in your eyes.

"I _won't_!"

For a moment, Leon swore that he saw a little flicker of fire dance around your frame - but only for a split second before it died out. He wasn't sure whether you'd noticed it or not, and if you did, you were staying quiet about it. When he thought about it, he'd never really seen you angry like this before, and on that matter, he'd never seen you so adamant about going back to Twilight Town. You always seemed… at home when it came to exploring Hollow Bastion, and you never really opened up about missing your own world. What had changed? He wasn't sure, but he bit back any ideas of asking you about it at the moment. You were upset and angry with him, and he knew not to push you for information. Instead he settled on an idea he'd mentioned earlier, and he left the house without another word to let you cool off before he'd talk to you tomorrow morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me voice im gonna post this and chapter 19 at the same time  
> me voice haha jk i crave validation so ill just go ahead n post 18 while i work on 19, 22, and 32 all at the same time.
> 
> very very short chapter that barely broke 1k but theres things to come within the next few that im rly excited for! especially chapter 22 (and, tbh, 23) haha
> 
> also completely unrelated but one of my fave fics updated recently and i noticed. that the writer also doesnt specify who the readers brother is and now im starting to wonder are we gonna have the same exact twist by coincidence bc i will both Scream and cry bc ksdfhsdf same hat lmao
> 
> im surviving off of four hours of sleep rn but thats ok im gonna get some decent sleep tonight hopefully lmao happy holidays maybe ill update again within the next few days


	20. nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you get a visitor.  
> things are good.

With every day of training, you'd begun to notice your health dwindling a bit. The harsh pace of constant spell-casting hollowed out a home for fatigue to constantly plague you throughout afternoon to afternoon, causing you to usually fall asleep almost _always_ right around dusk. Leon found himself in the habit of waking you up, making you eat something (which, while you were thankful for the little bit of concern, you'd still held onto the angry you'd felt towards him days earlier) before letting you rest. Day after day, you shouldered your bag as you head up to see Merlin and then proceed to spend the next several hours conjuring spell after spell.

Then there was the day you were stopped before you were even out of bed, finding a note scribbled out on the coffee table from Leon bluntly stating that Merlin said you needed rest. Raising a brow, you almost dismiss the note as you go to gather your things - only to find your journal missing. As you scrambled to find your journal, you hit your knee against the coffee table, sending the note flying off and just out of your reach as it fluttered down to the floor.

As the powers that be would have it, you picked up the note as the writing on the back stood out to you.  Of course, Leon wrote some comment saying your journal would be locked in his room, _don't try to break in,_ and to _rest_ for once. Letting out a sigh as you give up the idea of finding Merlin anyway, you wandered into the kitchen so that you could find some sort of late breakfast for yourself.

Most of the morning resulted in you lazing around the house, enjoying a cup of tea, and feeling the relief of not having training to sap away your energy. For once, you could eat proper meals without rushing through a single component instead, and without having Leon to wake you later on to make sure that you were taking care of yourself. Without your journal, you started to grow antsy as time crawled past you, as the idea of studying over comments on your technique would have been _something_ for you to do. Finally, you settled on wandering Hollow Bastion - trying to find something to entertain you for the day. You counted on maybe running into Yuffie or someone to talk to for a while.

What you hadn't counted on was spotting a certain brown-haired boy standing outside of Merlin's house, for once without Goofy and Donald. You fought back the urge to call out to him, maybe talk to him for a bit, before you remembered that he was most likely busy. Wasn't he supposed to be off saving worlds? As you walked through the little clearing outside of Merlin's house, you caught Sora glancing up and spotting you - only to light up and dash over to greet you.

"Hey!" He cried out as he rushed to see you, stopping mere steps away from you. So you could assume that he wasn't _busy-busy_ , since he was talking to you, but, then again, you weren't about to complain about his presence.

Shifting your bag on your shoulder, you nervously shift your weight from leg to leg. "Hey," you finally greeted him, "are you looking for Merlin or-"

"Nope!" He said, popping the 'p' with a grin, "I heard from Merlin that you wanted some synthesizing stuff, so… what all are you looking for?" You stared at him, completely dumbfounded for a moment - you never mentioned to Merlin about your little synthesis quest, after all. Before you could even muster up a response, he continued on, "I have a lot to tell you about, by the way!"

You couldn't fight the smile that Sora's mere presence often brought you, since the boy seemed like a ray of sunshine when he was around you. Wordlessly, you followed him towards the Marketplace whilst listening to him excitedly ramble on and on about some world where he was a pirate. The entire time, the question still weighed heavily on your mind before you found your attention fleeting and finally reached out to Sora, stopping him with a gentle hand on his arm. "Sora… why are you here? I mean - I'm definitely glad you are, but-"

He stared at you for a moment, looking akin to a kicked puppy at the sudden question, and immediately a pit of regret began to swell in your stomach. "Merlin said-"

Gently, you cut him off with soft voice, telling him, "I didn't tell Merlin about synthesis… stuff."

Realization flickered in his eyes as he lit up, back to the bright and happy boy you knew. "Oh! Leon told him!"

At the mere mention of Leon, you had to hold back a scowl. Of _course_ Leon did. You were glad to see Sora, of course, but… you sort of wished that it had been because of your own doing, not because Leon ran off and told Merlin your business without even asking first. But instead, you forced a smile and pushed a stray hair from your face, "Alright, then… I think I shoved the guidebook in my bag, if you wanna look?"

As the two of you settled down in a quiet area alone, you found the booklet and flipped through it to find the first dog-earred page with the fire bangle and it's advanced forms. Just as you honestly expected, neither of you had any of the materials for it - nor for the shadow anklet or anything else you had considered synthesizing for one reason or another. Despite the fact you had the feeling that nothing would come from this little reunion, you were disappointed - before looking to Sora and deciding that you couldn't really ask him to do this for you, as he was already doing enough with the fact he was trying to help you get home, on top of saving other worlds. But considering how bummed he seemed to be as well - and you somewhat _curse_ the fact that he looks like a kicked puppy because that was the way to pull at anyone heartstrings - you felt the need to salvage this little trip and turn it around.

"Hey," you said, catching Sora's eye, "I know you're busy and all, but… maybe, if you want, we could… I dunno - maybe go fight stuff, or… I could cook for you and Donald and Goofy? You look like you could use a break."

And he genuinely did. Mr.Hero himself, whether he actually acknowledged it or not, looked worn down from endless fighting despite the smiling exterior. He looked tired, to say nothing about the bumps and bruises he received, or any of the faint scars from fights that you could make out - the kinds of things that weren't completely removed when cure was cast. Sora sat there, staring at you for a moment, reluctant to put his guest on hold like this, but… on the other hand, he _did_ have a new page for the storybook with him, and he could go visit Winnie the Pooh, just so that this wouldn't feel like he was completely blowing off everything he was meant to be doing. Slowly, he finally nodded with a small grin, and you immediately began to beam with happiness - and deep inside of him, he felt something light up in joy as well, as if there was something else reacting but… he knew that _he_ was genuinely happy to see you like this. If he was honest, Sora didn't understand how he felt when it came to you - not in the idea that he didn't like you, because he _did_ , but more under the concept that… whenever he was with you, it always felt like something was _missing_ , even if he knew that nothing was.

"Sora?" He looked up, snapping out of his little daze of thoughts due to the sound of your soft voice. "Tell me about your adventures, please?"

"Oh - right!" He responded, hopping up from his spot as he immediately set out on catching you up about _everything_ he'd gone through.

As you fell into step beside him, you couldn't help but marvel at all of the dangers that he faced daily. While you had gotten better at slinging spells instinctively, the idea of fighting still had its underlying fears. Was Sora ever afraid like that? He always seemed to be ready to face danger, accepting that this was his duty without doubt. But nevertheless, he excitedly told you his stories - his expressions and wild hand gestures speaking much more than his words did. Everytime, you would always end up listening in amazement at the dangers he faced, completely at a loss for anything other than little vocal hums of acknowledgement, differing in tone when necessary. To think that a boy your age was facing off against gods and rogue genies and living sacks filled with insects and _pirates_ would have shocked you before you met Sora. With him, it felt natural, in a weird sense. These were the things that you could imagine Hayner bragging about with bright eyes and his smirk that was always a tell-tale sign he was bluffing. Sora was honest - maybe a bit too proud at times, but if you were honest, he was allowed to be considering who he was and what he was doing.

And yet… something bothered you. Something about him left a pit of dread in the bottom of your stomach as you gazed at him, confident yet… something you couldn't quite detect. He was tired - that much was certain - yet there was always something about Sora that shook you slightly. At first, it was his eyes: too blue and too familiar to you, with something at the tip of your tongue and yearning to be spoken. Something was missing, or something was wrong, and it shot the strangest bit of purely emotional pain through you when you tried to push past whatever was blocking your thoughts. The way he spoke about his island, about how much he loves the water (and that made you smile: how fitting for an ocean-eyed boy to love the sea) and you caught yourself staring at him as the two of you wandered towards Merlin's home, a folded up page in Sora's grasp. When he apologized for steering you in this direction, due to the storybook that sat in Merlin's house missing its pages, you assuaged his concern quickly as you came up with the excuse that you'd talk with Merlin while he took care of his business.

He stopped beside you along the way, a hand held over his heart - or, perhaps, just over his necklace, as you weren't quite sure. "... That's funny," he said after a long pause, eyes downcast and brows furrowed.

"What is?"

"It's like…" He paused for a moment as he looked up to meet your gaze, "I know you from somewhere."

You broke into a smile. "Maybe we met in another life, Sora," you chuckled, brushing a hand through your hair nervously (and, for a moment, you wondered why you were _so nervous_ all of a sudden, and why that weird feeling had hit you once more).

The silence grew thick and awkward between the two of you. Neither of you moved: you just stood there, staring at one another for a minute, as if maybe you could find your answers if you just focused for long enough. The sun was setting overhead. You remembered home.

"So… you said you cook?" Sora finally asked, thankfully breaking the silence.

You beamed once more, "Yep! My parents were always really busy, so I _kinda_ taught myself when my brother wasn't around. Dad helped some, but… I guess I pushed myself to improve."

Something about the way you lit up made him smile. "That's cool!" He said, only to hesitate once your words registered, "I mean - it's not cool that your parents were busy, but, uh, I'm kinda… useless when it comes to cooking."

"I can always teach you, if you want." Then it hit you. "Actually… Sora, when's the last time you had a proper meal?"

His face fell. "Uh…"

You laughed a little, and something about it made him smile again. "C'mon. I wanna tell you about my magic stuff," you took a step forward, looking back for Sora to join you.

When he fell into step beside you, everything felt natural. Like this had happened before, countless times. Maybe you were just thinking of your times in Twilight Town, of afternoons with your brother walking beside you as you head home for dinner, or of afternoons where Hayner decided to pester you with a wide grin and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. And yet there was something… off about those memories. Whatever had laid at the tip of your tongue returned. But when you looked at Sora, for a moment that feeling would die down and then hit once more, stronger than ever. He was a mystery. And you?

You had always been the curious type.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoo boy i dont even have a good explanation for why i havent updated. theatre, college, new york, moving back home - but all of thats more recent (well, maybe not the theatre part since that was around four months of work). its been over four months and i havent updated, yikes.
> 
> but on a nicer note: im home for the summer, so hopefully ill get some more writing done. i already have a chapter written out, but its several ahead which means im gonna be stuck figuring out the space in between this one and that one. but hey - i got some writing done! im no longer stressed as fuck over classes and shows, and im looking to make up for lost writing time!
> 
> also i got kingdom hearts 3 a few days ago and ive been playing it off and on and god theres so many good sora-donald-goofy interactions like wow my heart is warm!!! look at these three dummies being good pals!!! i love them!!! they share one brain cell but i love them w my entire heart (if u wanna ask for like. anything abt kh3 and dont care for spoilers abt worlds and keyblades Specifically (no plot stuff tho skfhsdskjfh i dont intend on spoiling anything in this fic. for the sequel however...) its so much fun tho and i nearly cried at the fuckin opening movie bc of the music alone
> 
> anyway
> 
> thank y'all for all the kind words!!! and for also being super patient with my dumb ass because my last update was literally in december and its literally may. like. its almost my bday. and by almost i mean "its the 23rd but its the month so its Almost my bday" so. wow. i need to get my shit together.
> 
>  
> 
> also god i realized ive never signed off Any of my fic notes but whats up its Ya Girl MJ whos just. dumb n tired. pls talk to me about kingdom hearts.
> 
>  
> 
> \- mj


	21. twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> change is coming.

"You okay?"

From your spot against the wall, you let out a heavy sigh, back pressed against the cold surface. When you had first arrived, Sora had been nowhere to be seen - and, sure, enough, he appeared within minutes with Donald and Goofy, having come from a virtual world inside of the computer. The moment his gaze met yours, you realized something was wrong. His eyes widened - as if he hadn't expected you to be there - before he immediately turned the topic back to the task at hand: finding the password he needed for Ansem's computer. As if that hadn't been enough, the worried glances you got from Goofy and Donald were enough to solidify that Sora was hiding something from you. When you went to say something, he brushed past you quickly, going off to search through the study. Leon's gaze fell to you, before he glanced back towards the open doorway, stepping towards it - but stopping for a moment to address you.

After a long beat, you finally replied, "Sorta - please tell me you noticed that too." You looked back up to him, Leon still busy with his task. For a moment, you weren't sure he heard you, no signs of acknowledgement to assuage that concern.

But he finally responded after a minute too long. "Kid's got a lot on his mind. Maybe you should ask him about it."

Leon soon walked out, going to assist Sora in his search for the password, while you were left there to stew in your thoughts. When you thought he'd returned to say something to you, he merely stopped in the doorway before turning with a sigh - and then he returned once more, with Sora, Donald, and Goofy in tow.

The moment Sora had passed through the doorway, you turned to address him. "Hey, Sora-"

You'd barely gotten his name out when he turned and cut you off, fumbling slightly over his words in the process, "Sorry [y/n]- I've gotta-"

You take a deep breath, before letting it out. "Can we talk?"

He glanced to the computer for a moment before looking back to you. "Uh, yeah, I mean-" He avoided your gaze. You frowned.

Then you took a small step forward towards Sora, keeping your voice soft, "Are you okay? Did something happen?" He continued to avoid your gaze and you looked past him to Leon, and then you caught a glance of Tifa - who you had barely noticed, due to being caught up in your thoughts. When you looked back to Sora, he took a quick step back, as if searching for a way to avoid this conversation.

"Uh oh." Donald and Goofy sounded from the sidelines, watching this conversation go down.

The air went silent. You watched him with worry - had you done something? Or did he learn something? After a long pause, you addressed him at last.  "Sora? What happened?"

He looked back to you, before his gaze then fell to the ground - almost in _shame_. "It's, uh - it's a long story, and-"

You get to the point. "Is it about my family?"

"No! I mean, yeah, sort of-" He paused, taking a deep breath before meeting your gaze at long last. Something about the look in his eye made you tense up slightly. "The  road to Twilight Town opened, and we were going to come get you but we didn't know how long the road would be open and we figured it _might_ be open for a reason, so… it might be open still, but - what if it's not?"

With a small tilt of your head, you frowned, staring at him whilst slightly less worried and puzzled than you had been before. "Is that why you were avoiding me?"

"Well," he said, dragging out the vowel,  "... sort of?"

The sound of squabbling jarred the peace of the room. "Just tell her already!" Donald cried out in frustration, staring at Sora.

"Yeah!" Goofy said, "I'm sure she'd understand!"

"Tell me…" You began, stumbling, before staring at him and furrowing your brow. "Understand _what_?"

Sora scratched at the back of his neck, and his sight dropped away from yours as he finally admitted, "We… We asked Hayner and the gang about your parents and… no one knows what happened to them. They disappeared, and you disappeared - but we explained that to them." After a moment, he met your gaze again, "I just… I thought that you'd be angry or upset and I was worried-"

Your eyes widened for a moment - _he expected you to be upset?_ "I'm not! I understand, Sora. I… don't really _want_ to go back if my parents aren't there since I can't really do much completely on my own." Something stung deep in your chest - _did you even really want to go back?_ "Besides… my brother might be out there and what if I find him? Maybe I can get some answers from him. But… I'm not mad at you at all."

He looked at you in disbelief, "You're not?"

"Nope!" You finally smile, grasping at the strap of your bag. "Besides - the road's open as far as we know and that's what's important!"

Besides - Sora was like a puppy. Even if you _had_ been mad, you doubt that you would have been for long. At the reminder of what he was _supposed_ to be doing, he nodded before giving you a quick promise that he'd get you back to Twilight Town as soon as possible. And then he was gone again, scanned and broken down as he entered the datascape to reunite with the being he mentioned earlier - _Tron_ , if you were correct. The moment Tifa left the room, Leon finally spoke up:

"I didn't know you have a brother." He watched you as you closed up, shutting your eyes for a moment.

Finally, you nodded. "Yeah… I do." You paused, voice cracking ever-so-slightly, " I miss him a lot."

In that moment, you were hit with a hurricane of emotions. What if you never found him? You became so acutely aware of the bracelet on your wrist, the beads a barely noticeable touch to your skin at this point. What if _this_ was all you'd ever have? This and his gross, awful smelling cologne that had grown on you year after year until it smelled like _home_ to you, because it was one of the few things you could hold onto of him. You let out a shuddery breath as you shut your eyes tighter, trying to pick up on every minor detail of when you saw him last - and, strangely, enough, he felt so… _distant_ for a moment. Like his name wasn't at the tip of your tongue, like his face had faded in your memory, like - like you were _forgetting_ him, somehow. As if something had been waiting for this sea of doubt to crash over you to snatch detail by detail away from you.

The warmth of Leon's hand finding your shoulder brought you back into reality. You slowly opened your eyes, looking up to him as he pulled his hand away - not speaking, but watching your every move, trying to figure out what you were going to do next. But you just look away, taking a deep breath for a moment: and suddenly, things are okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this a short chapter?  
> yes
> 
> is there a reason for it being a short chapter?  
> other than "im probably going to post at least two, maybe three chapters tonight" - nah.
> 
> but heres a lil fun fact:  
> on page 43 of my outline for this fic, it covers the end of ch 24 and part of ch 25  
> on page 43 of my outline for the sequel: its a pretty good chunk of ch 16, starting to go into chapter 17  
> and chapter 17 starts with "wow 43 pages and we're not even halfway into the fuckin story. jfc." so  
> ive got a lot of plans for the sequel ;)


	22. twenty-one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you remember.

_The icy-cold water splashing against your neck caught your attention faster than anything else would have. The sun had been particularly harsh and you'd been napping under a tree, enjoying the warm air without a fear of a sunburn to taunt you. When you heard the sound of a branch snap, you should have looked up then - but you knew that your brother was the only doofus not cautious enough to avoid anything that'd alert you. But the moment you felt a splash of cold water, you jerked up._

_He was laughing at you. You pouted, cheeks puffed out as you gave him a sharp "Hey!"_

_Then you pushed yourself up off of the ground, sprinting after him as he turned tail and ran off - still laughing along the way. The collar of your shirt clung to your skin, still cold and damp, and you could feel the icy drop run down your back. Did it help the heat? Definitely. Did you even want that? Absolutely not. At least, not without some sort of warning first. It was times like those that you wished you could do magic like him - just to get that little bit of revenge towards him._

_You tackled him without an ounce of hesitation to hold you back, sending the two of you sprawling onto the dirt and before you knew it, you'd been laughing alongside him, dust settling as you rolled onto your back to look up at the clouds. He said something. You didn't remember what._

_You did remember him getting up though. "C'mon, Ace," he said, extending a hand to you, "Let's go get some ice cream before mom and dad get home."_

All in a moment, you were snapped back into reality. Why had that thought come up? Why were you remembering that day _now_? You bit your bottom lip, Leon watching you as you went to lean against the console behind you. He slowly withdrew his hand from your shoulder, letting it fall back to his side before turning and crossing his arms over his chest, gaze falling towards the floor.

"So  what happened to him?" He asked, catching your attention.

You pretended you didn't hear. "Hm?"

Leon knew you too well. "Your brother," he said, and you realized you were cornered.

"Oh. That's… a long story." _And a hard story to tell. And something you struggled with comprehending completely, even now._

Leon raised a brow as he glanced over to you. "I've got time."

For a moment, you debated giving some excuse - that you weren't ready to talk about it, that you didn't really remember all the details you'd actually committed to memory, that you were too tired. But… there was a part of you that needed to talk. To tell the story as it was. You'd been avoiding it for this long, and… what's the harm in remembering? Something about Leon made you want to open up to him about this.

So you took a deep breath. "Well… my parents had been running this clinic since before I was born. It's always been the family business and my brother, as soon as he was old enough, basically worked the front desk and they expected for him to take over the business since, y'know, that was _tradition_ ." You looked up to Leon, who'd simply nodded, eyes pinned to a particular spot on the floor for reasons you'd never be sure of. " He was the oldest," you clarified, " so… he wasn't really given a choice. I think it'd always been my mother insisting that he'd be the one to take over the business when he was older, since she was the one to inherit it - my dad understood how he felt, I think, since… he wanted to be a chef, but gave that up so he could help my mom." You paused, drumming your fingers against the console. _Just how much sacrifice had gone into this business?_  

You continued on. "My brother didn't care about being a doctor or anything - he just wanted to follow his own dreams and adventure. When he got older, he started fighting with mom a lot." For a moment, your blood felt oddly icy. You'd always been upset with her for the way she treated him, the way he disregarded his wants - _and_ your own, _and_ your father's - just for the sake of tradition. Your voice turned bitter, "He was _supposed_ to do this. It was an _honor_ for him to take on this position with his partner one day, just as our parents did, just like our grandparents did… it was _tradition_. He was never one for tradition…" You broke slightly at that, lips turned upward in a soft chuckle -something you didn't understand in the moment. Maybe it was just you trying to relieve that tension of remembering. "I remember he came into his room one night after a really bad fight and said that he didn't care if they didn't understand. I didn't understand what he meant at first, but… I remember the night he left."

 _He'd been walking to and fro constantly, never stopping to rest for a moment as he threw things into his bag without an ounce of hesitation. Restricted anger filled his every movement, his jaw clenched and brows furrowed in anger as you sat criss-cross on his bed. You weren't sure what to say. Your mother had sent you out of the room before you could really witness the heat of the argument - but… based on his actions alone, you knew it had been the breaking point. You wanted to say something, to say_ **_anything_ ** _to show him your support. But you weren't sure how. He kept moving. You merely watched. He was about to blow up and you could tell._

_So you asked the stupidest question you could have in the moment. You still beat yourself up over it years later. "Are you okay?"_

_He slammed down a t-shirt into his bag, turning to face you. "They don't_ **_understand_ ** _, Kiddo." After a moment, his gaze softened towards you as he went back to his task._

_You wilted slightly, looking down at his clumsily packed bag. "I know… I'm sorry."_

_"What're_ **_you_ ** _sorry for?" He asked, as you looked back up to him. He gave you a weak smile to mask the internal fury he'd been dealing with, "You didn't do anything." And then he paused for a second, leaning against the side of his bed, sort of half-sitting, "You're the only one who supports me, y'know."_

_After a long pause, you finally asked what'd been on your mind. "Are you coming back?"_

_He didn't answer you immediately, and maybe that should have been your warning. He stumbled through an attempt at an answer for a second, before looking away, and then he finally beamed and reached out, ruffling your hair. "Maybe someday, Ace. Don't let them get you down too much, okay?"_

_The gnawing frustration at the back of your mind finally broke through. When he finally pulled his hand away, you asked "Why can't I go with you?"_

_He looked away from you, standing and going back to his packing - trying to buy himself some time to make up a decent answer. "You need to stay here, [y/n]. I can't support both of us."_

_"I can work! I don't wanna stay here-" You had cried out, looking up at him. He closed his bag, setting down his instrument case back on his bed as he popped it open. He didn't talk to you. He ran mental inventory, before he finally looked back at you._

_"I promise I'll come back for you, kiddo. Stay strong." He smiled at you._

_The instrument case snapped shut._

You were back to reality. "I never saw him again." Your voice sounded hoarse for a second, as Leon finally lifted his gaze to check on you - to make sure you weren't about to fall apart beside him.

"You didn't look for him?"

You sort of laughed at the thought. "I was thirteen at the time, so… no. Besides - the next morning, my mom took me into the clinic and taught me everything that he was supposed to do and that was my job."You paused, before you sort-of chuckled once more. "I guess I'm too much like my brother."

"What makes you say that?"

You shrugged a little - you were like him in a lot of ways, you thought. "I guess I just didn't wanna settle. That's kinda why I started doing stuff with magic - since… maybe I thought that… if I was strong enough to make it on my own-"

He had cut you off, finishing your own thought for you, "You could go out and find him yourself." He nodded slowly.

"Yeah. I just wanted to see that _dork_ one last time." A tear rolled down your cheek, and you raised a hand to wipe it away. Leon tensed beside you as you continued to cry quietly, watching you frustratedly wipe away the tears that were betraying everything you'd kept inside for so long.

"Sorry," he said after an awkward silence had filled the space between you, "Didn't mean to bring up a sore subject."

"It's fine. I don't like talking about him but… I need to, I think." Addressing it would help you, right? You couldn't just keep bottling all of it up and pretending that it hadn't happened, that he hadn't promised you he'd be back and then never did. Sometimes you were just so _angry_ . He'd _promised_ . How much time had you wasted sitting in bed, wondering _when_ and _where_ and _why_ you'd see him again, and _how_ he was going to try to explain himself? He wouldn't, would he? You knew your brother too well. He'd hide his reasons and try to make it up to you. That's how he always was - he hated conflict, when you thought about it. You didn't blame him - every single time he tried to speak his mind, he was met with harsh judgement from your mother.

"Right." Leon had said. You'd gone silent afterward. The air grew awkward.

And it stayed awkward for a while. You broke yourself out of your thoughts, and your refused to look at Leon. "But… I think… when he left, I got really upset because of everytime we argued and fought like siblings and… I would give anything to hug him one last time." You slowly said, hugging your arms closer to your chest absentmindedly. When Leon looked over at you, you looked so… _distant_. So closed off from the rest of the world. A tear gave you away, rolling down your cheek slowly as you took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

He reached out, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. "Maybe you will. Who knows." And then his hand fell back down to his side again, him turning to work at the computer. You pushed yourself away from the console, returning to the side of the room where you slowly sunk down to the floor, pulling your knees closer to your chest. What would he say now, if he could see you? You weren't sure. You couldn't even imagine his voice for a moment - imagine what he would do if he knew you were forgetting him somehow?

What would he even say to you if he knew what happened?

~

"I have to go into town," Leon had said, turning to face Sora, "see what that last shakeup did." He turned his attention to you for a moment, "you coming with?"

You shook your head, pushing yourself up onto your feet again anyway. The moment you began to wipe at your face, Sora grew concerned.

Right as Leon left, he spoke up with a "Hey, are you okay?" Which was followed with "Did something happen?"

You forced a smile as you wiped away the tears as best as you could, face thankfully no longer wet. Finally, you responded, "Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine, Sora." You paused as your smile began to fall, and you finally admit something you'd been holding back on. "I'm… I just miss my brother, that's all."

Sora took your hand quickly, catching your attention as you looked up to him."Don't worry - I'm gonna help you find him! I promise!"

After a moment, you immediately wrapped your arms around him, face buried in his neck as you mutter a soft "Thank you." As you pulled away, you looked around for a moment before finally coming up with an excuse to get out. "I'm gonna step out and get some air for a second."

Quickly, you made your way outside - flames burning through Nobodies when escape wasn't possible. As you emerged into the fresh air, something immediately hit you: something was wrong. The atmosphere was so _tense_ , you could barely process what was happening before instinct took over and sent you downhill to find Leon - or Cloud or Aerith or Yuffie or _anyone_ who would have even the smallest inkling of what was wrong. The moment you seemed to have found stability, the ground started to shake, and you found yourself struggling to find footing as an explosion rang out. You glanced behind you, back along the path where you knew Sora and Donald and Goofy and the King were, before you shook your head - they could take care of themselves, after all - and you turned back to head onward. In a blur of black, the cloaked King bolted past you, cutting through Nobodies along the way with ease. As you came upon Leon, you prepared to fight, the fire already pulsing through your veins.

Soon enough, Sora appeared. The moment things went quiet, post-battle, Leon turned back to him and called out that the King was in the bailey. He turned away, dashing off without a second thought. If he had turned back to face you, you knew you would have gone with him. But instead you grew impulsive, looking back to Sora and Donald and Goofy and deciding against your better judgement to join them. As they head past you, you ran to keep up with them.

"Sora!" You called out, causing him to look back at you, "I'm coming with you."

He stared at you for a moment, "maybe you should go see if-"

"That wasn't a question," you smiled at him, "I'm coming with you. I can take care of myself."

Part of you later regret it. But in the moment, you didn't. You didn't regret dashing past the King after his companions followed suit, you didn't regret calling out an apology to the King, or blasting through Heartless and Nobodies. As fate would have it, you were caught up for a moment - Sora and the others dashing ahead of you - but you could handle yourself, as you had said. With enough fire, you'd burned through your adversary, and took off to catch up to the others.

"You shouldn't judge anyone by appearance!"

Your heart skipped a beat. The sound of Sora's keyblade appearing terrified you as you ran forward - desperate.

" _I told them they were sending the wrong guy…_ "

You stopped. You couldn't breathe for a moment, heartbeat rapid in your ears as tears threatened to spill over. Almost as if you were in a trance, you continued past Sora - holding a hand back towards him to stop the. Barely two steps away from them, you finally stopped, hand flying to cover your mouth as you recognized the figure in front of you.

"... Myde?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aka the chapter ive been planning for fuckin MONTHS man.  
> or actually - its more the next chapter, but i was so ready to write the end of this one because hoo boy its time for mj to just throw kh3 canon out the fuckin window babey!!!!
> 
> which is basically: yes im throwing a lot of kh3 canon out the window for anyone who knows whats up. i dont think anything was Completely established, but things were set up at the very least.  
> and basically i planned this fact back in late june of last year, before kh3 was even out, and im sticking to my original plans because one, i have the next chapter written out and have had it written out for a while, and two - thats a lot of plans i'd have to change for the same of one canon fact
> 
> so for anyone whos like "uh, mj, canon-" - this is basically me saying "im not sticking to canon too much for this plotline bc im not rewriting that shit" 
> 
> also to the person was right abt readers brother: congrats. i cant tell you how much i panicked when i saw your comment - mostly because oh FUCK someone got it and said it oh FUCK - but, on the other hand, at least it wasn't impossible to tell.


	23. twenty-two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sometimes it's better to not have known.

The first thing you had noticed about him was the fact his hair had gotten longer.

Maybe, when you started to look back on it, that was a stupid thing to notice _first_ \- but that didn't change the fact that you did, as his hair had grown longer. He'd always liked having his hair a bit longer, even if he did settle for the undercut he used to sport due to your mother's distaste of him looking more… _disruptive_ , according to her. The battle ended with him convincing her of the undercut and nothing less - to which she accepted her minor defeat (and, honestly, victory as it _was_ shorter than he wanted) - and that was how he'd always looked.

That's how he had looked when he left. Then you noticed he'd gotten taller too - even if only by a few inches - and the thick, black coat he wore seemed to bulk him up. However, that didn't hide the sharpness of his features that made you willing to bet that he'd just lost more weight over two years. Myde had always been a scrawny, bean-pole of a guy - but at least he looked _alive_ and _bright_.

Maybe that was what threw you off more than the hair and his height and weight: the fact he stood there, breathing and blinking and ultimately _alive_ , but… he had this air of what you couldn't describe as anything but _dullness_ about him. He stood before you as if he had been weathered by time and endless experiences that you had a feeling you'd never get to know, rust built up to hide his shine, dulling his light tremendously. What had changed about him? What dimmed his bold spirit down so much? What _exactly_ had happened that hurt him and destroyed him in these ways that only someone like you would have noticed? The mere thought of something having hurt him left a pain gnawing at your insides in an attempt to pull attention anywhere than Myde.

You didn't waver - focus completely pinpointed on him for the first time in a long time. Years felt longer the longer that you looked at him, committing every detail of him to memory. If that was how Myde looked to you after a few years - how much had you changed in his eyes? You'd gotten a bit taller, sure, and magic was its own thing - but… what else had weathered you? What was going on inside of his mind? Was he, just like you, analyzing every miniscule change and trying to put some sort of reasoning behind each and every one?

To be honest, you hoped he was. That maybe, just _maybe_ , he was looking at you and realizing just how long it'd been since he saw you last, since he _left you_ . That maybe he was in awe of your presence alone, that you left Twilight Town and managed to find him, that _maybe_ he was regretting all the things he'd never done up until that moment.

As much as the thought hurt you, to think that _maybe_ your face was enough to send him into a spiral of regrets, you hoped that you did. Maybe he'd understand how you felt after he left, then - all the things you never told him, all the times he missed out on, _everything_ that you wished he were an audience to in your life… how much it _hurt_. As cruel as it felt… you wanted him to understand that pain.

Between this silent reunion between you and your brother, the trio nearby remained quiet as well - perhaps trying to wrap their heads around what had just happened before them. The name that you spilled from your lips - _Myde_ , was it? - felt so foreign, so forbidden, when they all realized you'd been referring to Demyx. The grip on their weapons tightened as they watched you, who had been standing so far from them and Demyx, only stare at the Nobody before you, looking so _small_ for a mere moment. Demyx didn't address you, he didn't snap back to reality with some sort of witty line, but he stood there, staring at you in presumed awe of your presence. The flicker of recognition burned into a fire in his eyes, and the group could tell he _knew_ you - or, at the very least, he knew the name that you had instinctively said, considering how silent he had gone when he had been proud to make conversation minutes before.

Subconsciously, Sora tightened his grip on his keyblade even further, a small need inside of him having urged him to do so when he realized that, despite the scene unfolding before him, Demyx was still a possible threat to _you_ . Demyx was a Nobody, after all, and the chance of him turning on you in a heartbeat stayed a sobering reality to him. Sora locked his gaze onto Demyx, trying to figure out _anything_ , trying to formulate the bare bones of a plan in case something were to happen to you. The air stayed silence, tense with a confrontation between siblings just _waiting_ to occur. The Nobody no longer cared for Sora in that moment, but had turned his attention to _you_.

Myde only stared at you with green eyes you never expected to see again - not like this, _never_ like this - as you forced yourself to join your friends. The entire time, he didn't speak. Not when you slowed to a stop near Sora, not when you met his gaze with your own ice cold one, not while the fire inside of you flared and made your blood _boil_ as recognition struck you. He was alive. He'd been _alive_ the entire time, and he never went back to you. He never said one word to you, or left any signs that he was okay, or found a way to tell you that he was _alive_ and _okay_ . Had he gone back to Twilight Town at all? Had he even thought about you and your parents? The mere thought of him returning and leaving again (not to mention the idea of him doing so _multiple times_ ) without any trace of his presence made your insides twist and left a bad taste in your mouth.

The sound of your heart began to pound in your ears as you stared at him, loathing the ideas that flooded your mind as anger and relief swelled inside of you as you searched for something, _anything_ , to say to him. He didn't speak. Sora stood by your side, his fingers slowly loosening around the keyblade as he watched this strange stand-off between you and your brother. Myde recognized Sora - which meant that Sora _knew him_ , ultimately, and… had Sora been hiding this from you the entire time? You didn't address it - that was a question for later, because what mattered was that Myde was _there_ and you had so many things you wanted, no, _needed_ to know. The storm inside of you merely kept swirling further and further, keeping your thoughts focused on Myde and _only_ Myde. You were mentally giving him the spotlight you always believed he deserved. He didn't speak. He just stood there, arms hanging by his side as he stared at you, and he didn't say a single word.

To be fair, you didn't either. You _couldn't_ . Only one word had managed to bubble up when you saw him, and it'd only just been his name. Inhaling deeply in an attempt to try and find some sort of serenity to end the rain and waves crashing inside of you, you could only repeat your earlier statement whilst still staring at him: "Myde?" You pretended that your voice didn't break when you spoke his name again. You pretended you were holding everything despite the fact you were completely ready to break down right then and there, your knees buckling slightly in betrayal. Where'd the sorrow come from? The entire time, you were _angry_ and _relieved_ at the sight of him - but… grief still made its way through you, slipping in undetected to mask everything else you'd been feeling.

To put an end to the silence, Myde merely punctuated it with a smile. You immediately began to feel sick. "Sorry," he said, his voice enough to drag up nostalgia, "don't know him!" _Liar_ . "You've got the wrong guy." You continued to bite back your emotions, as the word bubbled back into the back of your mind: _liar._

The recognition that flickered in his eyes ultimately gave him away and completely betrayed his words. He was lying to you, and you _knew_ he was lying to you. Myde had always been bad at lying to you, because the two of you had been inseparable when it came to growing up. The two of you told each other _everything_ . You bit back the tears that were threatening to give you away completely, to betray the strength you were so desperately trying to hold onto in front of him. You stole a glance at Sora, who merely watched you with concern in his eyes, attention bouncing from Myde to you with every time one of you spoke. Mustering up the courage to speak,  you finally found your words, "Myde… _please_ ." You voiced began to waver beyond your control, "It's… it _is_ you, right?"

Tension grew tauter between the two of you as he continued to lock gazes with you. He grew annoyed, brows furrowed as he scowled. "Stop calling me that!" He barked, hands curled into fists, "that's not my name." That was when you finally broke, tears beginning to spill down your cheeks. He watched as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to hide your emotions, and he began to soften up, "Hey - aw, c'mon, don't cry." His voice had grown slightly quieter, still carrying that little lilt in his voice that made you wipe at your tears and look back up at him, "you've just got the wrong guy, Ace." Immediately, he recognized the mistake, and you watched as he grimaced at dropping the nickname he so affectionately used with you. He'd just given himself away completely, and everyone there _knew_ it.

Straightening up your posture, you roughly wiped at your face, the fabric scratching at your cheeks while your blood began to boil because _he just tried to lie to you_ , and he slipped up too _easily_ , he didn't seem to even _fight_ habit. Keeping your breathing even, you stared him down, forcing yourself to ignore the few tears that rolled down your cheeks as a betrayal to the cold air you were trying to displace. For a moment, you were speechless, rage silencing you as you finally chose your words carefully. "Where did you go." You didn't ask. He didn't _deserve_ a teary question now. The time for questions was gone, and, honestly, had left the moment you saw him standing here.

He only cracked a smile, but you could tell that his nerves were undoing behind it. "Look, Ace, that's not important-"

Without a moment's reflection, you cut him off, impatient for the answer you wanted, "Myde." Your tone rivalled your mother's, "Where. Did. You. Go." Every word fell heavy and harsh, biting as you stepped away from your friends and slightly closer to him. He wasn't getting out of this - you _needed_ an answer, no matter how many quips and comment he was ready to throw at you. Myde still knew you. When you were determined, nothing would stop you.

His facade dropped for a split second, as he frowned. He felt as if he were being scolded by your parents all over again - but, in the end, it was only you, acting so much older than you were. So he picked himself back up, went back into a smile, playful all over again. "Aw, _c'mon_ , you already figured out it was me!" He ran a hand through his hair, still beaming with delight at what he seemed to think as some sort of _game_ , "Can't I get away with some secrets?"

He was challenging you, whether he realized it or not, and you weren't going to waste any time with playing a stupid game like this with him. Not this time - not after the past few years of _wondering_ and _waiting_ . The prickling of your nails digging deep into your skin bit at your nerves, fingers having tightly been brought together and into your palms as you took one heavy, menacing step towards him. He watched you as you threatened to erupt, all but physically turning red with anger.

"You don't get to have secrets this time, Myde!" You yelled, taking another step forward. "You never wrote home, you never came back - I spent the past two years wondering where you were!" Another step. "I spent the last two years working in the clinic, doing _your job_ , and wondering what happened to my brother - and just how much longer until _I_ could get out and find you!" You forced yourself forward, still mere steps away from your brother, but your presence so much bigger than you were. The entire time, you never broke your gaze, putting the spotlight back onto Myde - just as he so _craved_. He shifted uncomfortably. You didn't care. You just continued to stew in rage as you waited for him to do anything.

The air had grown hotter and thicker as you grew closer to him, your nails dug deep into your palms and threatening to draw blood. Behind you, Sora's grasp on the keyblade unconsciously grew loose once more - and, to be fair, he never noticed when he'd grown tense and defensive all over, but that didn't change the fact that he _did_ \- while he watched everything begin to unfold in front of him and his companions. He'd never seen you angry before, and honestly, he had no reason to. Needless to say… he didn't like it. Something about the heat that wavered around you made him tense for a hero who'd braved world after world, who faced the darkness head on. He exchanged quick glances with Donald and Goofy. Should they pull you away from him? Despite the fight that yearned to break out between you and Demyx, whether just verbal or eventually physical, you seemed to be able to hold your own. Besides, you didn't seem to be in danger, but still they knew that the figure standing before you most definitely wasn't the person you remembered. At least, not completely, anyway.

After another round of glances, they seemed to agree to stay quiet as you walked to him, stopping a step away from him - maybe out of respect for the moment, maybe out of fear of provoking a far worse situation, you'd never really know. To you, there were only two people occupying that world. Everything that had lead up to this moment  - the training, the fights with Leon, _everything_ \- became nothing. The answers you'd been yearning for was standing right in front of you, just waiting to be spoken to you with a smile and a taunt. And you… _you_ were crackling and flaring up, emotions running awry. The curiosity was eating you up inside as you stood before him, staring him down with a searing sensation beginning to race through your blood and remind you that this moment was real and you were _real_ and this was happening.

You were so close to having everything you wanted from your brother. He was back. That didn't change: he was alive and in front of you, breathing and slightly afraid of the fury that burned within you. But the explanation you were owed was still nonexistent in your word, just a truth waiting to be spoken and to put a cork in all of the theories that run reckless within you. The entire time, he didn't speak a single word to you, only watching as every emotion and every single thought that'd been building over the years began to race to resurface inside of you, all at once without care of what you could handle. Your brother just stood before you, completely _dumbfounded_ at how to react to you without provoking you further. That didn't help, though, as his silence merely drew your frustrations further.

In that moment, you finally broke. As you pushed further, digging your nails into your palm _harder_ , you stopped caring about what air you portrayed and began to cry. Your vision blurred with tears as you tried to maintain eye contact with Myde. "I - I kept-" You hiccupped, "I kept wondering what I could have to keep you there - or, or, _or_ what I could have said to make you make me with you, because _anything_ would have been better than staying there alone!" You quickly wiped away at your tears, "Y-You could have taken me with you-"

"Look," he said, voice softer than it had been before, "it's not that simple, Ace-"

It wasn't the time for childhood nicknames as a weak attempt to break through to you, to bring back stupid grins, to dig up any and every nostalgic concept to weaken you and your anger. After a moment of being choked by your anger, you choked out, "Don't call me that."

With a playful grin masking his emotions, he prodded you further, " _Commander_?"

"Myde-" You managed to say.

"Aw, c'mon, kiddo-"

Finally, you burst. Flames flared up as you grew hot with anger, blood burning like lava through your veins as a ring of fire encircled you - and Myde stood only a step away, barely having a second to throw up water to counter it with a sharp _hiss_ to punctuate the action. He breathed, having just missed what would have _definitely_ hurt, before he finally registered what had just happened before him. You watched as another smile crept up before he laughed at you, a hand flying to his mouth as he hid his smile - as if the muffled laughter didn't give him away. The fire around you died down, sizzling out to mere dancing plumes of smoke as you watched Myde stand there and laugh at you without a care.

Finally, his amusement seemed to die down. "Really? I already deal with _one_ hothead - now my sister's one too!"

You didn't know what he meant by that, and frankly, you didn't really _want_ to know what he meant. You didn't break with laughter, the temptation to do anything familiar with him losing its battle. Lazy afternoons of stupid jokes and cheating out of textbooks felt like _nothing_ to you. But the thing was: you _wanted_ to laugh along with him. You wanted to laugh in anger, to do anything in response to him but you were merely frozen in place with fury. Eyes bore into your back, this little scene between you and Myde being watched like hawks by the audience of three standing several feet behind you. For a split second, you had to wonder if this changed their opinion of you - to see how angry you got. But the care melted away, since you felt you had the right to be this infuriated with someone who left you without another word to let you know that he _was_ alive.

Finally, after his laughter died down for good, he changed his approach. What brought on this sudden switch in behavior, you weren't sure. But you watched as Myde's gaze began to soften, and he took a small, slow step towards you. "He- _ey_ , c'mon, Ace," he said, voice as quiet as his eyes, "I'll explain it all, just…" He stopped speaking for a moment as he opened his arms to you, before speaking again, "C'mere."

When you didn't move, because frankly you weren't sure if you _could_ at that moment, he finally stepped forward once again. He stood directly in front of you, waiting for some sort of sign. Still, you made no effort to move, staring at him with anger that stole your words from you, and then he slowly and cautiously wrapped his arms around you. All within that moment, the anger inside of you snapped, and you sort of melted as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders tightly - your tears beginning to flow freely once more. The leather cloak he wore groaned underneath your gasp, and he was so, so _cold_ , but he was _there_ and he was _in your arms_ .

You were hugging your brother. That's all that truly mattered to you at the moment - that this wasn't some nightmare that would steal him away, or some dream to keep replaying in your head night after night, that this moment had been _real_.

That you had really found Myde after all these years, nearly completely unchanged in appearance and personality.  Your earlier thoughts had been confirmed - he was still scrawny, even slightly more so than before he left, and you had pushed yourself onto your tip-toes in order to hug him. You could practically hear your mother chewing him out for letting his hair grow out so unruly, or a concerned comment from your father that Myde needed to eat a little more and stop neglecting his appetite for closing himself up in his room and practicing music - and then you would have made a small, snide comment about how Myde's metabolism was the same as a hummingbird's, because Myde had always been a beanpole and he would always be one. For a moment, in his arms, you felt at home.

Your forehead fell against his shoulder as you shut your eyes, whispering softly to him, "I missed you, Casanova." The steel exterior around you had broken down the moment he chuckled at the little nickname, and his grasp tightened around you. He muffled something into your shoulder that you couldn't quite make out, but… you connected the dots and made a pretty spot-on assumption of what he meant. Besides, even if you had asked, he would have only made some comment about how a smarty-pants like you should know. So you only held him tighter, tears dripping onto his cloak. The thought just kept repeating in your head: _this is real, this is real, this is real_.

All in a moment, everything broke around you. "Wait, [y/n], be careful! He's a Nobody!"

As you pulled back from Myde, the serenity had shattered while you looked back at Goofy. _A Nobody?_ Slowly, you turned back to face your brother. "Myde?" You said, voice small and soft, "wait… you don't… wait-"

You knew. He tore away from you, backing up as he turned on you in a second, realizing just what you knew about him.

"Let me guess," he hissed, "you're on _their_ side, aren't you?"

 _Their side?_ You struggled to find an exact response, only managing to say a quick "Wait-" before he frowned at you once more.

"And here I was thinking I was dealing with only _one_ traitor, [y/n]." He summoned his weapon as you stumbled away from him and to the safety of the three behind you. You immediately recognized it as a sitar - _extremely_ different from the one that he owned and taken with him, but all in all, it still was what it was. He didn't have a heart. _He didn't have a heart_ \- what had happened to him?

"Myde-" You managed to choke out, only for water to be sent spiking up your way, barely giving you a second to throw up fire to protect yourself. Once more, steam hissed before you, and you stumbled back further, putting as much distance between you and him as you could. Your chest began to hurt as you saw just how cold he had become to you.

Gone was his familiarity. Gone was the Myde that you knew, the Myde you had grown up with, the Myde you _loved_. All in a moment, the world had changed around you just because of one small statement. He gripped his sitar, disposition ice cold as you could feel a battle unfolding between you. Before you could even begin to gather yourself, Sora was in front of you, keyblade gripped tight in front of him as he shot a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure you were okay. Donald and Goofy joined him immediately, staff and shield in hand and ready to face down this foe.

A voice in the back of your head began to scream at you to run, to get as far away as you could from this situation. But you shifted completely, balling your fists and preparing to do what you could to help Sora in this fight - no matter how much the mere thought of fighting Myde began to hurt you. He'd never been much of a fighter before. How much had changed over the past few years that you didn't know?

When it came to the actual fight, you weren't nearly as skilled as the trio with you. Your strategy was merely nonexistent, teetering completely off of the concept of avoiding everything that you could and striking whenever you had the chance to - and you quickly learned just how awful of a plan that was when it came to fighting Myde himself. The spears of water that would shoot up threatened to snap bones with ease if they had more pressure, the orbs of water were always freezing cold and painful when they exploded - almost knife-like when the drops managed to make contact with your skin.

But you kept back, distance being your friend once you realized striking when you could wasn't going to work, using fira every moment that you could and not sparing cure the moments your vision would grow even slightly hazy with exhaustion, allowing energy to burst through you despite deplenishing the limited supply of magic inside of you.

Water shot up beneath you at some point, sending you flying through the air before your back made harsh contact with one of the canyon walls behind you, and for a split second you swore that sorrow flashed across Myde's face. That second had been all Sora had needed to unleash hit after hit, your breath growing shallow for a moment, pain spiraling through you. Forcing yourself back onto your feet, you bit back the pain and rejoined the fight - despite how sloppy you knew your movements would be.

In between the moments of your endless struggle to keep up, you noticed just how fluid Sora and his friends worked together. How rash Donald's spellcasting could be at times, how quick Goofy was to push through and try to find openings for his friends to hit or heal when they needed it the most. The way that Sora navigated the battlefield with ease, truly showing how much of a hero he was, and you realized how much sense it made that he was chosen by the keyblade. While you seemed to only be an unneeded cog in this fight, the three of them functioned extremely well together. Soon, they managed to send Myde stumbling back, breathing heavily.

"Aw… blew it again…"

Against all better judgement, you ran to him anyway as he fell, his sitar dissolving from existence before your eyes. "Myde!" You cried out his name one last time as you approached him, falling to your knees an attempt to heal him. Your fingers merely grazed his shoulder before he looked back up to you.

Before you could do anything, he had his hands on your own shoulders. "Sorry, Ace," he whispered to you, shoving you back as hard as he could before he lowered his head before throwing it back in pain almost immediately after. You laid on the ground before him, gravel digging into your palms as the darkness leaked from his form, his pained scream ringing out and echoing throughout your mind as he, just like his weapon, dissolved right in front of you. Water flowed up from beneath him was you watched him fade from existence. You wanted to reach out, to say something, to do _anything_ , but you didn't. You couldn't. The mix of water and light danced before you, the particles of darkness disappearing into the sky as you only sat in the dust of the fight, choked by your own breath and what had just happened before you.

He was gone.

Everything fell to complete silence around you as you could only stare at the spot he'd just disappeared from in front of you. You couldn't speak past one last broken shout of his name, your voice breaking as you pathetically reached out while fatigue had already begun to take you - and you pulled your arm back, breathing heavily. Your tears began to choke you as you raised an arm in a weak attempt to dry your eyes on your sleeve, your breathing stuttering as you tried to make sense of what had just happened. Sora said something.

You didn't hear it.

You couldn't hear it. Every sense you had refused to process anything more as you stared through blurred vision at that one spot. Fighting everything within you that kept you down, you forced yourself to stand, and you stumbled forward, only for a familiar set of hands to catch you before your legs could completely give out underneath you.

Everything was silent around you, except for the cursed replay of what had just happened that kept repeating and echoing in your mind, refusing to merely become a memory to reflect upon and hurt at later. Your head fell against his chest as you sat there and breathed in stunned silence, all new thoughts refusing to register, brain refusing to just commit the specifics to memory and forced you to relive them and realize what had just happened.

You knew conversation flew around you, as you could feel Sora speaking, and then the pause filled by what you could only assume was Donald or Goofy or both. The king arrived. You watched as he eventually strode past all of you, saying something. You watched as Goofy shoved him away as a large rock flew through the air due to an unseen cause. When you no longer had support keeping you up, you were forced to find your footing as your senses started to return to you while reality sobered you up.

As Sora and Donald hurried to their fallen friend's side, you watched as the king stood a few feet away. He said something, determination in his eyes as he threw off the black cloak he'd been wearing and summoned his keyblade, taking off into the distance. Was Goofy dead? You could only stare at the ground, wiping your eyes furiously as Donald rushed past you in a blur of white and blue. As you begun to regain your sense of self, Sora started to take off, footsteps falling heavy past you only for him to stop. As you looked up, you saw that he had stopped for a moment to look at you, watching as you pulled yourself together.

Finally, you heard him.

"[y/n]?" His voice had been soft as he watched you straighten up, composure returning to your as the heated glow began to envelop your hands. The fury he'd seen before began to burn in your eyes once more, as you only nodded at him. The fire had returned.

"Make them pay."

Sora merely nodded in response, and immediately you took off running as fire burned through your blood and sprung you forward into battle with a path of smoldering flames and ash to be left in your wake. The Heartless were _nothing_ to you as you forced your way through countless forms of them. Purpose had found a home in you as vengeance became your goal - for Myde _and_ for Goofy.

Ash decorated the ground as you followed after the distant sound of the king's keyblade cutting through heartless and the flashes of magic from Donald's staff, as if this trail was to serve as a guide to you or to warn others of you and the fury that you held inside of you. As you burned through another Heartless, something awoke deep inside of you. In the strangest sense, you knew exactly what this sensation was. Although you didn't know how to define it exactly, you did know one thing.

From his ashes, you'd been reborn. There was no way you'd let him down: not now, not ever again. Not after everything you just faced. As much as it pained you to think of him in those final moments, you did. The fact you saw him one last time kept you pushing onward and burning bright and bold and beautiful because _that's_ what he would have wanted you to do.

Some moments you needed someone else to fight for, someone else to make proud, because sometimes doing things just doing things to protect yourself didn't seem to be enough. The thought of him smiling and cheering you on gave you the strength you needed when you needed it the most. When you thought of him, you felt a deep, burning need to keep going strong. You decided that you would keep your head up and brave the storms that were to come, and during your battles you kept burning through your spells, and you kept pushing yourself to keep going because, when you thought about it, that's what he would have wanted you to do.

So for yourself, you'd muster up the best of your abilities and fight. You'd sharpen your skills to protect everyone you loved. You'd fight for yourself, for your friends, for the future to come. You'd be strong. For him, you would stay strong.

After all… what's what Myde would have wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because im feeling nice: triple-post. also because ive just been rly giddy about posting this chapter ever since i wrote it and rewrote it
> 
> mainly bc this is the chapter ive been the most in love with because i think it began with "okay, who doesnt have too much of a backstory" and demyx was one of the characters i was 100% down to write for. i think marluxia was the other, but uhhh his khux backstory sure is a thing i guess.
> 
> anyway like i said before: i'm disregarding canon for pretty much all and any demyx-related stuff when it comes to serendipity and its sequel! this first story was written far before kh3 canon was a thing tbh, and im just actively disregarding anything that conflicts with what ive already come up with for the sequel. its a fun time tho.
> 
> its also like 5:30 in the morning while im posting this so uhhh i should probs at least nap sometime soon
> 
> hope y'all enjoy - i know i did while writing this.


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